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HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 



t^3 

HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 



BY 

S. L. BENSUSAN 



WITH TWELVE ILLUSTRATIONS 



NEW YORK 

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

1910 



^ 



-?A'^ 



"b 



J^y/^ 



TO MARIAN 



" As the song of a bird in May 
Shall my song be, 
That close in a brake all day 
Sits bowered and sings ; 
For there in his chosen hom( 

To his mate pipes he, 
Nor cares for a while to roai 
On travelling wings." 



PREFACE 

MY acquaintance with Spain dates back nearly 
twenty years. Since the first trip to Anda- 
lusia, taken on a tramp steamer that still fills a leading 
role when I suffer from nightmare, I have revisited 
the south half a dozen times and lived awhile in centre, 
north, and east. On several occasions holiday-making 
has provided the sole excuse for a visit, but I have 
acted as special correspondent to two daily papers, and 
this work gave me my first insight into the working 
of Spain's political machine. Of the fascination of the 
country and the charm of the people there is little set 
down in the following pages, not that it is possible to 
forget either, but because many pens have made the 
recital more tedious than a twice told tale. In the 
preparation of this volume I have relied for the most 
part upon memory and Charles Rudy. He it is who 
has set me right when memory tired or sought to play 
me false ; in his pleasant company I still recall inci- 
dents of half-forgotten days and nights spent in the 
most fascinating country in Europe. He it is who 
came to my rescue when I sought in vain to do justice 
to Spanish pigs and Spanish literature, he who is on 
far more intimate terms with both the cookery and 



Vll 



viii HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

the modern books of the country. When the old 
never-satisfied longing for Spain finds me out even 
in this remote corner of the English country, Charles 
Rudy's delightful volume, "Companions in the Sierra," 
can bring the land, that seemed so far away, vivid and 
palpitating before me. No other books, save those of 
Cervantes, Borrow, and Cunninghame Graham, can 
do as much. So my readers, should I have any, will 
share a debt I am pleased to acknowledge. 



S. L. BENSUSAN 



Great Easton, Essex, 
August y 1 910 



CONTENTS 



CHAP. 

i I. 
in. 

III. 

IV. 

iv. 

VI. 

VII. 

VIII. 

IX. 

, X. 

^|xi. 

^XII. 

XIII. 

^XIV. 

\ XV. 

^XVI. 

XVII. 

XVIII. 

XIX. 

XX. 

/xxi. 

XXII. 
XXIII. 



PREFACE e . . . 

INTRODUCTION 

THE SPANIARD AT HOME 

IDLE DAYS IN SOUTHERN SPAIN 

RECOLLECTIONS OF SEVILLA . 

THE CHURCH IN SPAIN . 

CHURCH FESTIVALS 

THE HIERARCHY OF THE CHURCH 

THE THEATRE IN SPAIN. 

THE SPANISH KITCHEN . 

THE STORY OF THE TABLE 

THE FERIA \ 

THE Spaniard's summer holiday 

CAFES AND RESTAURANTS 

ETIQUETTE AND HOSPITALITY . 

THE PLAZA DE TOROS . 

STUDENT LIFE IN SPAIN 

IN A SPANISH VILLAGE . 

LIFE IN THE COUNTRY-SIDE . 

LOTTERIES IN SPAIN 

SPANISH INTERNAL POLICY 

LITERATURE IN SPAIN . 

SPANISH LAW COURTS AND THEIR JURISDICTION 

ARMS AND THE MAN 

INDEX ..... 



PAGE 

vii 
I 
6 

20 

32 

46 
61 
76 
90 
106 
122 

147 

154 
766 

180 
189 
208 
223 
236 
246 
261 
274 
281 
30s 



IX 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

i The Law of Necessity. (Mother leaving her Little 

One to Nurse another Woman's Child) . Frontispiece 
From the Painting by M. Santa Maria. 

FACING 
PAGE 

4 An Old-time Street Scene in Seville . . .32 

From the Painting by L. Alvarez. 

4After Confirmation 46 

From the Painting by Carlo Vazquez. 

a Choir Dancers in the Cathedral of Seville, before 

AN Image of the Virgin 72 

^The Market Place 106 

From the Painting by M. DOMINGUEZ Meunier. 

^GiRL IN Bull-Fighter's Costume with White Mantilla 137 

From the Painting by J. Casado. 

Before the Corrida. Fighting Bulls in the Fore- 
ground . . . 146 

i Sunshine and Shadow. A Street Scene in the South 176 

*The Goatherd . . . . . . . .208 

\ Beside the Noria^ or Moorish Water Wheel . . 223 

\ In Rural Andalusia — The Rival to the Train . 234 

.War. (Two of the Guardia Civil fetching a Recruit) 281 

From the Painting by Legna. 



XI 



HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

CHAPTER I 

INTRODUCTION 

IT IS easier to talk about home life in Spain than to grasp 
the full significance of the expression. The English- 
man who knows Spain fairly well must needs wonder where 
a description of the country's home life begins or ends. For 
regionalism is more marked in the Iberian Peninsula than 
in any other country of Europe, and in some aspects it 
might be said that Spain is a geographical expression rather 
than a country. 

Four great divisions are apparent to everybody who has 
visited the country with open eyes and a receptive intel- 
ligence. There is the north, including the Basque provinces 
and inhabited by sturdy, independent men and women who 
still have a certain number of laws (fueros) that do not apply 
to other regions ; there is the south, the country of vine- 
yards tenanted by people whose nature has to all outward 
seeming nothing in common with that of the north. The 
Andalusian is neither idle nor gay as he is depicted so often ; 
he has his own highly strung nervous temperament and 
suffers the sun to work its will upon him without too large 
a measure of resistance. In the busy, bustling east, Cata- 
lonia and Valencia, you have yet another type of Spaniards — 
men and women — progressive, ambitious, hard-working, and 
well informed, hating the Castiles that tax them for their 



i 

J 



2 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

idleness, and inclined to be intolerant of the ruling house 
that stands between them and their republican ideal. Onlj 
in Catalonia and other parts of eastern Spain can literature 
be held to flourish, or art claim significance and sincerity, o 
science boast of a following. And yet, side by side in thi* 
truly progressive region, we find the sober man of affairs ani 
the anarchist drunk with dreams of authority overthrown! 
We find the peaceful, prosperous citizen who greets the taxJ 
collector's frequent call by lighting yet another cigarette an 
shrugging his shoulders, and the eloquent orator who ca 
talk for hours on end, loves high principles nearly as muc 
as he loves the sound of his own voice and believes that if 
he talks long enough, loud enough, and with sufficient ap- 
plause from the loversof well-sounding words, the Millennium 
will hear him. Practical business and hopeless ideals seem 
to find a common ground in the east of Spain, but the fact 
remains that that district holds the business intelligence and 
the greater part of the country's intellect, and that it is the 
storm centre of Spain, regarded with deep and ever-grow- 
ing suspicion by the Church and the State. 

In the centre and west we come to the land of vast open 
spaces where one may ride for hours without seeing more 
than an occasional granja or farm. A flock of goats or a 
herd of pigs move across the open country in charge of men 
or boys as far removed from the twentieth century as the 
shepherds of the Theocritean idylls. These men or lads 
know nothing, and care less, of the world that lies beyonc 
them ; they have dispensed quite happily with education 
their religion, if any, is no more than a mass of crude and un- 
digested superstitions ; they know the extremes of heat anc 
cold, of poverty and privation, but as a class they are perhaps 
happier than the most of those who live in big cities anc 
have cafes and music-halls within easy reach. 



INTRODUCTION 3 

Here then we have four distinct regions with nothing in 
common. But regionalism in Spain is not limited to four 
districts or to forty. To the Spaniard, the city or even the 
village of his birth is all the world that matters. When a 
Spaniard says " mi pueblo^' his mind has gone back to 
the village of his birth, where his patron saint is enshrined, 
where the politics are his own, and where his patriotism is 
localized. The district in which his village is set lies right 
outside his interests ; the province of which it is a part has 
no claims upon him ; of his country itself he is supremely 
independent. History records with a smile that finds much 
sympathy the story of the valiant Alcalde of Mostoles, a 
village near Madrid, who solemnly declared war against the 
great Napoleon on the all-sufficient ground that the rest of 
Spain seemed to be in two minds upon this serious under- 
taking. These instances might be multiplied, though not so 
significantly ; they serve to indicate the depth of root which 
regionalism has spread in every corner of the land, and by 
way of an apology for the necessity of dealing in nothing 
more than general terms with the more varied aspects of 
Spanish home life, though the outstanding regional differ- 
ences will be set down. 

Englishmen as a class have but the smallest acquaint- 
ance with Spanish life and thought For the most part 
they know only the chief cities of Spain and the leading 
hotels of those cities, where they encounter a French chef 
and a London season scale of charges, where Spanish life 
as Spain knows it is carefully kept from their knowledge. 
At every turn, on every side, their wants are provided for 
on the special basis that applies to foreigners. Do they 
want to see " Spanish dancing," one of the hotel guides is 
ready to improvise an entertainment that is sufficiently 
Spanish to satisfy those who know nothing about it. Does 



4 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN ^^^^^ 

one wish to go to a zarzuela or visit the arena de gallos or 
the plaza de toros, his mentors will see to it that he gets the 
best seats and incidentally that he pays something consider- 
ably in advance of the best prices. But Spanish life and 
Spanish character are no more accessible to him than the 
Mosque of Omar in Jerusalem or the Church of the Holy 
Sepulchre are accessible to a tourist armed with native 
assurance and Cook's coupons. 

The average Spaniard pictures the average Englishman 
as an aggressive person with prominent teeth, long whiskers, 
a sun helmet, a green umbrella and pockets full of gold, 
and the picture does not please the Spanish mind. Quite 
without enthusiasm the hidalgo^ together with his less dis- 
tinguished fellow-countrymen, remark the intrusion of John 
Bull. His enthusiasm for their cathedrals, picture galleries, 
places of entertainment and the rest awake no response in 
the Spanish mind, and the average Englishman is careful 
to say nothing and do nothing that may conciliate the in- 
habitants of the land he has deigned to favour. Armed with 
insular pride and circular tickets, he goes everywhere, pries 
into all things, and thanks Providence for his own special 
equipment of virtues and his British birth. The Spaniard 
cannot close his public places, nor would his courtesy permit 
him to do so ; the foreigner puts money in circulation and 
the Spaniard says with the Roman Emperor who was re- 
proved for taking a heavy tax from the Jews, " non olet ". 
But he closes the doors of his own house and opens them 
to very few. For many years towards the end of the nine- 
teenth century Spain had reason to complain of a lack of 
British sympathy — more particularly during the terrible time 
of the Cuban troubles and the American War. The old cry 

paz con Inglaterra 

y con todo el mundo guerra 



INTRODUCTION 5 

was heard no longer. There was a feeling that Great 
Britain should have stood between Spain and the deliberate 
misrepresentations that led to the conflict which, in the long 
run, has done Spain more good than harm. 

The presence of a British-born Queen in the Palacio Real 
has brought about a considerable change in public sentiment, 
and the feeling has been further aided by the frequent visits 
of King Alfonso to this country. It may well be that in a 
few years the intimacy between Great Britain and Spain 
will be deeper and more widely spread. The desired change 
should certainly follow the advent of a really Liberal Govern- 
ment in Madrid, and it may be that Senor Canalejas, who 
is now in power, will be able to maintain his position. 
Then the traveller who desires to spend a few months in 
one of the most fascinating countries in Europe, among 
people whose native charm and courtesy are hard to match 
anywhere, will be enabled to confirm and enlarge the details 
of Spanish home life set out in the following chapters. 



CHAPTER II 

THE SPANIARD AT HOME 

THE average traveller, tourist, or holiday-maker in Spain 
asked to describe the Spaniard at home would find 
himself in difficulties at once. He may have some smatter- 
ing of the language, he may have paid a few ceremonial 
visits to the houses of friends or acquaintances, but the vie 
intime of the home is probably a sealed book to him, and it 
is the purpose of this chapter to remove the seals, or some 
of them. 

All things considered, the Spanish home is a very happy 
one. There is a certain simplicity of life, a certain measure 
of good feeling, and a respect for tradition that always has a 
pleasing influence on the home. However out of date a cus- 
tom may be, if it has been sanctioned by use through long 
generations, it gains a beauty that is not perhaps its own 
through intimate association with the childhood of those who 
follow it. The life of the home is beset with countless tradi- 
tions in Spain, and while some few of the customs are de- 
plorable in our eyes, still more are exceedingly gracious. 

The modern Spanish house is as much a gift of the Moors 
as the noria that works on every hacienda in the country. 
The house is built round a patio or central courtyard which 
is generally square but sometimes oblong in shape. The 
patio varies very much according to the district in which the 
house of which it is a part is built. In the north it is little 

6 



THE SPANIARD AT HOME 7 

better than a dingy courtyard ; the broad flags that pave it 
are often seen to have suffered displacement from the strong 
weeds and grasses that have sprung up between them. The 
family washing hangs on lines drawn across the patio, and 
if the house should be let off in floors, each floor will parade 
its washing on the same day. As a rule, each tenant occu- 
pies one side of the square, and it is by friendly arrange- 
ment with an opposite neighbour that the washing lines, 
which are fastened on pulleys, have running rights to that 
neighbour's boundary. The patio of the Spanish house, 
particularly if each side of the house be let to different 
tenants, has a curious soul of its own ; there are sights and 
sounds associated with it that we do not find anywhere else. 
At certain' hours food is being prepared and utensils not 
to be met elsewhere in Europe are in noisy use. A little 
later the smell of cooking, a smell that is strictly regional, 
pervades the patio ; everybody having prepared the same 
material in the same sort of utensil is now cooking it in 
accordance with one recipe. In all probability that recipe 
has not varied for hundreds of years and will survive the 
reigning house and the dominant faith. Very cheerful, to 
those a little removed from it, is the chatter of the servants, 
who go about their work as though time were of no account, 
flourishing feather brooms or allowing pails to fall on to 
hard stone floors with a sound that draws expostulation 
from the mistress of the house who in her turn is probably 
scolded for interfering, if her maid should chance to be an 
old family retainer. Sometimes the girls sing as they ply 
broom and- pail or nurse the latest addition to the house- 
hold, and one hears quaint folk-songs that have never been 
set down and seem to clamour for the expert musician to 
save them from oblivion. And the voices ! Sometimes, 
of course, they are shrill and harsh enough, but how often 



8 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

are they absolutely true and pure and fresh, of a quality 
that demands nothing but a little training to fit the singei 
for some measure of success in a professional career. li 
there is very little sunshine and very little gaiety in thel 
natural aspect of the northern patio, it is at least brightened] 
by many charming aspects of the simple national life. 

Down in the south the patio is quite another institution, 
It corresponds in some measure to the roof-garden in modern] 
American cities. Screened from the road by double gates] 
often richly chased, filled with bright flowers planted in pots, 
generally boasting a fountain whose waters, never at rest,] 
cool the place during the hours of fire, the patio plays 
most delightful part in the home life of the south, and has; 
entered so deeply into the affection of the people, that one 
of the most popular plays in Spain to-day is the charm- 
ing comedy **E1 Patio" by the Brothers Quintero. This 
popular piece is very little more than a series of living 
pictures taken from an Andalusian patio, but it stirs 
Spaniards to enthusiasm. 

In the patio the lady of the house receives her guests, 
either during the afternoon or at night when the heat of the 
best- ventilated rooms is intolerable. Here the hour of the 
siesta is spent by those who being old and feeble find an 
added luxury in open-air repose, while the younger members 
of the household flock to the patio as soon as ** the hours 
of fire'* have passed. After dinner the mistress of the 
house receives in the patio, giving her guests sweet cakes 
and chocolate while her daughters play their own accom- 
paniment on the guitar to soft Andalusian songs, or are per- 
suaded by some lover of the national art to dance one of 
the national measures. Nowhere else does dancing acquire 
the same measure of abandon and grace. The stage seems 
but a poor place for dancing in the eyes of those who have 



THE SPANIARD AT HOME 9 

sat in an Andalusian patio and seen a sevillana or ^ijota 
performed by those who dance as naturally as a bird sings 
or a flower blooms. A varied company meets in the patio, 
but as a rule it would seem that the entertainment of the 
younger generation is the most important, or is it that the 
old are young in Andalusia, and that Father Time, a little 
ashamed of the speed with which he pursues poor humanity 
elsewhere, contrives to relax his pace ? Certainly most of 
the guests seem to have responded to an invitation from 
the younger members of the family, but the father will 
generally find a friend of his own age among the callers, 
and the parish priest or even some rather higher dignitary 
of the Church, may look in for brief relaxation after the 
hard day's work. Who shall name the hour at which these 
entertainments end ? As late as midnight the gipsy girl 
picturesque in her rags will probably still be telling for- 
tunes ; she arrived quite late on the road lying between the 
regions of No Man Knows Whence and No Man Knows 
Whither. Curious that although the gitana may be hungry 
and penniless she will show little or no gratitude for 
favours received. Between her and the community through 
which she wanders there is a measure of deepest antipathy 
that nothing will ever remove; she hates the Christians 
with a fierce hatred that finds its expression in curses, some 
of them exceedingly quaint, too, like the one addressed so 
often to those who refuse to have their fortunes told : ** May 
you be made to carry the mail and have sore feet ". It is 
perhaps permissible to remark that the gipsies are the 
worst horse thieves in Spain ; their king rules from Granada 
where he lives among the rocks of the Barrio de los Gitanos. 
Their hand is against all men and all men's hands are 
against them. Often the poor gipsies are punished for 
offences they have not committed, but still more often they 



10 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

contrive to escape punishment in cases where they are un- 
deniably guilty. 

Turning from those who visit the house to the house 
itself, one finds that, in the south a gallery runs round the 
first floor and overlooks the patio ; all the bedrooms open 
upon the balcony. This system of building prevails also 
in the east, and is fairly common in Italy. In the winter 
the gallery is closed in with windows (mirddores), while in 
summer the little green blinds and shutters {persianas) 
hold a too ardent sun at bay, or at least they do their 
best 

The reja is the heavy open-work shutter that is built often 
in beautiful wrought iron after a most delightful pattern in 
front of the ground-floor windows in Spanish houses. Some 
of the rejas are so beautiful, particularly in the north of Spain, 
that the innocent traveller passing by night through some 
old Spanish street, and wishing to examine some reja at 
his leisure, will often embarrass two lovers of whose exist- 
ence he was quite unaware ; the man standing motionless 
in the shadows of the pavement and the girl shrinking 
modestly behind the reja^ seem to be part and parcel of 
the place itself, in perfect keeping with the atmosphere 
and tradition of the street itself. There is nothing to do 
save raise the hat and make a brief apology that will be 
acknowledged by a bow and a low muttered " Vaya Usted 
con Dios " (go in God's keeping). Then you must hurry 
away and leave the street to lovers and the night. 

The floors in Spanish houses are frequently tesselated 
and on some the mosaic decorations are very beautiful. In 
most houses they are covered lightly during the winter 
with thin hemp carpets called esteras, that only serve to 
keep the dust warm. These esteras are nailed to the 
wooden border running round the room and amass a tre- 



THE SPANIARD AT HOME it 

mendous amount of dirt during the winter. On the 
polished wooden floors of houses belonging to the wealthy, 
carpets, that have passed through the London or Paris 
market on their way from the place of manufacture, are fre- 
quently to be met. They do not always seem in place. In 
the summer the floors are kept highly polished, the windows 
are full of flowers, and the balconies and shutters are ar- 
ranged so cleverly that the maximum of fresh air is attracted 
to the room. To appreciate the coolness of the Spanish 
room, you have but to walk along the sunny side of the 
pavement and breathe the white-hot air that seems to rise 
up from the pavement and wellnigh take your breath away, 
while from the windows above and around a current of 
cool air comes as though sent by the city's patron saint 
to refresh the stricken street. Not without trouble and ex- 
perience has the Spanish housewife succeeded in making 
her home as cool as natural conditions will permit. The 
Englishman who sets up housekeeping in Spain and lacks 
the service of a good native housekeeper will probably find 
his home uncomfortably hot at a time when the houses or 
flats of his friends are cool. So proud are the Spanish 
women at their capacity for subduing " the enemy," as the 
sun is called, that the relative coolness of their respective 
apartments is the topic of frequent discussion during the 
dog-days. In the happy absence of a thermometer — and 
that useful instrument is unknown to the general public in 
Spain — each speaker can pledge his or her conscience with 
complete serenity, and repent at leisure. 

The Spanish bedroom holds the bed in an alcove ialcobd)^ 
and by so doing conforms to one of the least healthy customs 
that the Moors left in Spain. The alcoba is stuccoed, and in 
very poor houses merely whitewashed, to keep an all too 
vigorous insect life at bay. Iron beds are more popular 



12 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

than wooden ones, the single beds being absurdly small 
and the double beds absurdly large. It is the custom in 
Spain for the bride to present her partner with the nuptial 
couch. The bedroom in a Spanish house is comparatively 
bare ; furniture is scanty, and the chief ornament consists of 
a plaster shrine with a figure of the local virgin and a few 
" genuine Murillos," of which nearly every Spaniard has one 
or two to spare. The writer well remembers how a dear 
old gentleman in Andalusia offered him a " g'enuine 
Murillo " at a price that came down slowly from ten thou- 
sand pesetas to seventy-five — four hundred pounds to three 
pounds ! 

Unfortunately for Spain there is a winter as well as a 
summer, and in parts of the Peninsula the winter invasion 
is a very serious one. The Spaniard makes little or no 
attempt to cope with it. There are still very few houses 
in which one finds a modern stove and reasonable warmth. 
For some reason best known to himself the Spaniard likes 
to believe that his brasero can yield as much heat as is 
required. There are three kinds of brasero^ the little low 
one in a wooden frame used among the lower classes, the 
tall and often beqtutifully chased one that stands on a 
tripod and makes a beautiful ornament in any room, and 
another one called the Camilla^ which is a brass bowl, fitted 
in a permanent frame between the four legs of a table. 
All three have one quality in common : they can warm 
nothing but themselves. Even if you put your feet on 
one in which the charcoal is sufficiently glowing to restore 
to you some measure of circulation, its effect will probably 
stop a little below the knees and the rest of you will endure 
the arctic rigour of the winter days. In some parts of 
Spain the winter wind goes about in gentlest fashion 
possible on the lookout for people with weak lungs. When 



THE SPANIARD AT HOME 13 

it finds any, they are presented with pneumonia, pleurisy, 
bronchitis, or any of the kindred troubles that, with the aid 
of a Spanish doctor, are safe to be fatal. They say of the 
icy wind that blows off the Guaderrama that so great is 
its suavedad that while it is not strong enough to blow out 
a candle it can kill a man. Many a madrileno has found 
to his cost that this is no idle boast, but then of course 
Madrid is about the worst residential city of all Spain and 
only came into existence because Philip \\ wanted a capital 
near the Escorial. Really, if you wish to be warm in 
Madrid during the winter season nothing can be better than 
to make friends with the cook and live in the kitchen. It 
is the most comfortable part of the Spanish house to those 
sensible people who do not mind the smell of strong oil 
and stronger garlic. 

The Spanish kitchen is worthy of a chapter to itself, and 
shall not have any smaller measure of attention when it is 
time to consider the country's cookery. Just now let us 
be content to remark that in the towns the kitchen is 
generally as white as lime-wash will make it ; the walls are 
wainscotted to the height of a man's shoulder, and the pots 
and pans hang against them in spotless purity. Copper, 
polished to the colour of old gold, is one of the most strik- 
ing additions to the national scheme of decoration, and 
many a Spanish housewife would rather add a new copper 
dish to her batterie de cuisine than a new dress to her 
scanty wardrobe. She still prefers to use the old charcoal 
stove that her mother and her grandmother's mother used 
before her. It stands in one corner, high up, so that the 
dishes are well under the control of their maker, and above the 
charcoal there is a great bell-shaped funnel that carries the 
poisonous fumes away. The stove is a fixture and con- 
sequently is not likely to be removed, but the modern 



14 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

kitchener and the portable oil-stove are beginning to make 
a few friends, though a long time must elapse before the 
Spaniard will regard a modern stove that does not burn 
charcoal as anything better than a luxury or a vulgar foreign 
innovation of little worth. The women of the middle class 
are not ashamed to go into the kitchen and place the results 
of their prowess before their husband and their friends. 
Theirs may be at times the faith that casts out fear, for it 
would be idle to deny that much Spanish cooking is accept- 
able only to the Spanish palate. But even the imported 
palate — so it be not a French one — can learn to appreciate 
Spanish cookery as practised among the middle classes wh( 
have learnt to exercise a certain amount of restraint when 
handling oil and garlic. But to discuss cooking in detail 
now would be to interfere with the proposed order of thes( 
chapters. 

The Spanish housewife of the middle classes is an honest 
soul, and lovable. She is proud of her home, even if it b( 
no more than a tiny little piso. She will labour in it day 
after day in complete contentment. She loves cleanliness 
and order, and is not afraid to work with her servants in 
kitchen or parlour. Between her and those who serve then 
is a curious relationship, not widely known in this country 
a deep friendship that does not admit of familiarity but is 
based upon a common measure of respect and appreciation 
for services rendered. The relations between Don Quixot< 
and Sancho Panza find many a counterpart in Spain to this 
day, not only among the men but among the women. Sc 
it happens that the terrible servant trouble hardly exists ir 
Spain where you find men and women serving the hous( 
with the fidelity of watch-dogs, prosperous in the day o 
their employer's prosperity, and contentedly shabby whert 
the sun does not shine upon those they serve. It woul( 



THE SPANIARD AT HOME 15 

not be too much to say that in many of the serving class 
all the virtues that endear the Spaniard to those who have 
the good fortune to know him intimately seem to find a 
home. 

Although a Spaniard may be full of blue blood and 
pride there is a certain strain of democracy in him that finds 
expression at home. In short, it may be said that he is 
accessible to his own household though he be inaccessible 
to everybody else in the world. Outside the ranks of the 
grandees and the nouveaux riches it is no uncommon sight 
to see the servant sit at the master's table where he or she 
seems to fill the vacant place quite naturally without 
assumption or familiarity. On his saint's day the servant 
becomes the host and the master the guest, and the kitchen 
or servant's hall the place of entertainment. On this great 
occasion the servant buys wine and cakes to entertain the 
master who meets the other friends of the servant, and joins 
them on equal terms. In the same way the maid entertains 
her friends on her name-day and her mistress is among her 
guests. Doubtless this good understanding accounts for 
the excellence and continuity of Spanish domestic service. 
It may be unnecessary to say that every Spanish child is 
named after a saint whose day in the Roman Catholic 
calendar becomes the child's name-day. 

It is very easy to keep a servant in Spain however poor 
you may be ; there is little extra expense beyond the cost 
of food, for the servant is quite content to take wages when 
they are forthcoming, will sleep in any odd corner in com- 
fort and contentment and is generally very healthy. The 
conditions prevailing among the poorer classes restrict sur- 
vival to the very fit in a country where the infant mortality 
is appallingly high. 

Perhaps the presence of the foster-mother in so many 



i6 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

Spanish families strengthens the ties between those who 
serve and those who are served. The average Spanish 
woman prefers to nurse her own children, and performs the 
act which is a mother's special privilege with a simple dignity 
that adds to the natural beauty of the most primitive of all 
services. In England women are ashamed to nourish their 
children in public, but in Spain this ugly false modesty does 
not exist. Women of gentle birth and refinement will not 
hesitate to fulfil their appointed task on a tram, in a railway 
carriage, or even in the street, without any loss of self- 
respect or the respect of others. Many a woman has the 
will but not the capacity to rear her own children, but when 
she finds herself unable to fulfil the mother's first duty, she 
does not fly to patent preparations that are guaranteed 
to turn the most puny child into a pocket Hercules. She 
prefers, if means permit, to send for a wet-nurse {amd) from 
one of the healthiest parts of the^country, those of the 
Province of Santander being in great demand. They are 
familiar figures in the streets of big cities. They wear white 
caps ; their hair is dressed in special fashion, a long tress 
hanging down on either side, and their silver ornaments 
prove on examination to be made of peseta and half peseta 
pieces. The anta arrives at her destination with no worldly 
possessions save her health and the rags she stands up in, but 
such welcome strangers are immediately made much of. 
Decent clothes are substituted for the rags, rich food takes 
the place of the coarse rough fare to which they have been 
so long accustomed, and the infant thrives in their charge. 
At the same time it must be confessed that the ama is very 
often a tyrant, and is apt to strain the resources of a small 
household to breaking-point, for she does not take any 
modest view of her own importance in the scheme of things, 
and will not compare for a moment with one of the regular 



7 



THE SPANIARD AT HOME 17 

household servants in point of good service, patience, or 
economy. 

The best has now been said about the Spanish mother's 
care for her children ; it must be confessed that infant 
mortality in Spain is on a scale that would strike horror 
into the hearts of English mothers. Medical science is not 
exactly in a thriving condition south of the Pyrenees, where 
a doctor in good practice relies largely upon the Santissima 
Trinidad and two or three medicines. There is sufficient 
belief in predestination throughout Spain — a legacy this 
from Morocco — to atone for all the doctor's mistakes, and 
there are times of course when the patient's constitution is 
stronger than sickness and a Spanish doctor in combination. 
Unfortunately, these patients are seldom children. In the 
big cities as in the tiny villages it is no uncommon sight to see 
unweaned children sucking the small green cucumbers called 
gherkin {pepinilld)^ while little tiny children, who can just 
run about, may be seen on hot summer days eating fruit 
which is either over-ripe or actually rotten. To make 
matters worse sanitation is unknown among the poorer 
classes ; indeed sanitary science is not popular in any part 
of Spain, and consequently dysentery, small-pox, and typhus 
are more or less endemic, and infantile cholera claims its 
thousands. Spaniards are a very prolific race, but the 
incapacity to rear children extends through all classes, and 
it is no uncommon experience to meet a man or woman who 
claims to be the sole survivor of ten, twelve, fifteen, or even 
twenty children, or to meet some old man or woman reduced 
to indigence, who is heard to regret that of a family of more 
than a dozen not one has survived to help in the hour of 
need. If the mother be ignorant, the ama is more ignorant 
still, and to make matters worse the average Spanish mother 
would rather allow a child to have something that is 



18 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

notoriously bad for it than vex the child by withholding it. 
As a class Spanish mothers spoil their children, and regard 
with horror the parents whose discipline is strict. They 
have never heard of King Solomon's dictum, or if they have 
they ignore it. The effect of this lax up-bringing is very 
unpleasant, and if it were not for the tremendous mortality 
among children would be more unpleasant still. But it is 
not hard to understand that when a woman pan only succeed 
in rearing one child out of three or four she is apt to spoil it. 

The Spaniard who survives the kind attention of his 
ama is duly grateful. As long as they both live she has a 
moral claim upon him that he never repudiates, and many 
an old woman in Spain to-day lives in comfort because in 
the days of her youth she nurtured some baby who con- 
trived to reach man or woman's estate and thrive. 

The increasing wealth of Spain, the king's marriage to 
an English princess, and the arrival of the motor-car beyond 
the Pyrenees have all served in their way to introduce 
certain alien elements into the Spanish household in the 
form of the chauffeur and the governess. The chauffeur is 
as often as not a Frenchman, but few Spaniards would 
hesitate in their choice if they had an Englishman or a 
Frenchman to choose from. The English governess in a 
Spanish house has a good time, for the consideration ex- 
tended to her is often greater than any she has experienced 
at home. Doubtless she undertook her journey with much 
fear and trembling, and looked to find surroundings of un- 
relieved gloom amid people of constitutional melancholy. 
Her awakening will have been a pleasant one, for in the 
majority of cases she is likely to find a friend as well as an 
employer, while the various phases of Spanish social life in 
which she will have ample opportunity of taking part, will 
make her work seem very light and pleasant. The chauffeur 



THE SPANIARD AT HOME 19 

will hardly have such a pleasant time, for although the 
wealthy Spaniard has beautiful cars, he has abominable 
roads, and unless his master be satisfied with the limited 
attractions of the paseo, the chauffeur's heart will be torn 
almost as badly as his tyres. " Running repairs " is a term 
possessing a terrible significance south of the Pyrenees. 

The attitude of the average Spanish servant to the foreign 
chauffeur is distinctly amusing. He cannot quite rid his 
mind of a belief that the motor-car is an invention of the 
anti-Christ, and that the last address of the chauffeur was 
not England or France, but quite another place. He re- 
gards the car itself with holy horror, arid will not often pass 
it, even when it is at rest, without making the sign of the 
cross. This of course applies only to those who are at 
once superstitious and devout, the others will be content with 
some sign by which they learned in some far-off native 
village to avert the evil eye. 

There is yet another class of Spaniard who, strong in his 
beliefs, will treat the car with contempt, and he is the most 
dangerous of all. He is probably related in sentiment if not 
in blood to the worthy baturro (native of Aragon) who in the 
early days of Spain's railways is said to have ridden on his 
donkey down the line. A train came up behind him, slowly 
of course and with deliberation, as becomes a Spanish train ; 
and the engine driver blew his whistle as hard as he could. 
The worthy baturro turned round in his tracks and shook 
his fist at the intruder. " If you don't get out of my way 
. . ,*' and here the story, like this chapter, stops, not with* 
out giving the keynote to the next. 



CHAPTER III 

IDLE DAYS IN SOUTHERN SPAIN 

THE joy of travelling in Spain will never be understood 
by the great majority of restless tourists who make 
their journey to the south by way of the Pyrenees and 
Madrid. Nor will the pleasure of life in Don Quixote's 
country be known to the patrons of hotels that have no- 
thing more Spanish than a French chef and a British scale 
of charges. But let the traveller turn into Andalusia's by- 
ways and he will find that, though the costume of the 
eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries has suffered 
change, in all or most other aspects life seems to pass along 
much the same road as in the days when Goya's marvellous 
brush recorded the society of which the rest of Europe 
knew little or nothing. " Civilization ends at the Pyre- 
nees" we have been told by men who should have known 
better, but we may never justly forget that Spain as an 
Empire has filled the foreground of Europe. Had she 
survived the grip of the Church, and the too ardent 
splendour of the sun, she might have stayed there. Perhaps 
purely western civilization ends at the Pyrenees, that is all. 
But I do not propose to speak of Spanish history or 
politics in this place. I have done no more than refer to 
my notebook for odds and ends of travel impressions, to 
present them here without elaboration or heightened 
colour. My first visit to the Iberian Peninsula was paid 

20 



IDLE DAYS IN SOUTHERN SPAIN 21 

in the early nineties when I was but twenty-one and knew 
few other countries. Since then I have been a wanderer 
in many lands, but Spain comes back to me with perennial 
freshness, and if inclination guide my footsteps it is there 
my holidays are spent. 

The idlest of all idle days may be passed in a Spanish train. 
It is no roaring, bustling affair like the trains of other 
countries ; it is something that contributes to the interest 
of village life, stimulates gossip, and quite incidentally takes 
passengers from one place to another in manner befitting 
a country that has never learned to hurry. I remember how 
when going on a short journey in Andalusia, the train that 
carried me stopped at a small junction. The station build- 
ings were all on one side of the line, and included a 
charming little farm-house and a glittering flower garden 
half-screened from passengers by a wall of undried tapia. 
Tickets were issued in the farm-house kitchen which was 
made as official as possible by the presence at its door of 
two members of the Guardia Civil who were on duty. 
These good fellows smoked cigarettes and chattered affably 
with passengers, but bore real carbines and wore cocked 
hats that no evildoer might seek to carry off train or station, 
or even hold passengers to ransom. While we were at rest 
here, after some hours of travel at the rate of at least twelve 
miles an hour, the driver uncoupled his engine and pro- 
ceeded down the line with it in the direction we were not 
to take. The passengers walked contentedly up and down, 
smoked countless cigarettes, ate oranges, resisted the im- 
portunities of beggars, or watched the bloom of figs, pears, 
and quinces in the orchard and the acacias in the garden 
beyond. At last I became uneasy and asked where the 
driver had gone. *' Pedro has run down the line on his 
engine to take a birthday gift to his mother who lives over 



22 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

there," explained the stationmaster ; "he is indeed a good 
son, and will not trust his parcel to the post. Spain is full 
of thieves." And when the good son had come back from 
his mission he restored the engine to its proper position, and 
we re-entered the train which went on its journey after three- 
quarters of an hour's delay. 

On another occasion, just as we were leaving a wayside 
station some young turkeys escaped from the garden, and the 
stationmaster stopped the train lest it should do any dam- 
age to them. As some of the passengers were in a hurry 
that day, they left their carriages and with the aid of broom 
and sticks provided by the stationmaster's wife, hunted the 
errant poultry home. Then we were allowed to proceed. 
While time is your servant all this does not matter ; if he be 
your master of course you do not go to Southern Spain. 
Even between Algeciras and Bobadilla, over a line that is well 
managed by a Scotsman, the Spaniard manages to leave the 
route supremely interesting and to make the least possible 
surrender to the business instincts of the Saxon. If we 
take Sevilla or Cordoba for our objective — and surely there 
are no cities in Europe that invite more pleasantly to idle 
days — it is well to choose this route, more particularly if you 
have travelled by sea to Gibraltar, as so many people do. 

In England no man is a hero because he travels by rail ; 
in the villages of Southern Spain I am inclined to think the 
case is different, and that you advance in the social scale in 
the Andalusia country-side if you have so much as a friend 
who travels in a train. When the engine pants into the 
station, conscious of a great task nobly done, all the villagers 
have assembled to meet it. The function corresponds in 
Andalusian fashion to Church Parade in Hyde Park. The 
stationmaster moves with an air of distinction through one 
of the most interesting crowds to be seen anywhere. Chil- 



IDLE DAYS IN SOUTHERN SPAIN 23 

dren — of whom three out of four are beautiful — are present 
in great numbers ; there is no school board to make them 
scholars in spite of themselves. Very often the girls have 
no shoes or stockings, but nearly all have a flower in their 
hair, or a handkerchief arranged as a mantilla. Many un- 
occupied men are to be seen ; all are smoking, nearly all 
have forgotten to shave. Beggars, who seem to thrive by 
the exercise of their profession, go from carriage to carriage, 
pleading for charity in most pitiful accents. Happy is the 
man who can boast a mutilated limb or an incurable disease 
that has outward and visible manifestations. The healthy 
members of his brotherhood look upon him with keen envy. 
The few people who, by some unfortunate accident, were 
born industrious, march up and down the platform with big 
earthenware jars full of water, for heat and thirst are chronic. 
Girls carry baskets of oranges, and in all the larger stations 
you may find modest refreshments provided at a stall, gener- 
ally in the shape of rolls half cut through to aid the insertion 
of a slice of greasy sausage. 

Seeing the amount of public interest taken in the train's 
arrival, the stationmaster would be a callous fellow indeed if 
he sent the long-expected visitor away too soon. I am in- 
clined to think that he enjoys his official position immensely ; 
indeed, I have seen him stroll up and down in front of the 
train with his wife on his arm and his numerous family at 
heel as though he felt he had not lived in vain. Only when 
he realizes that the train has done its duty by the district 
does he ring his bell with an energy and vigour worthy the 
occasion. He rings until he is tired, and then the train 
moves off* very slowly, and the ticket tormentor appears 
suddenly from the knifeboard and demands your ticket that 
he may mutilate it further. I believe that the ticket col- 
lector must be'a lineal descendant of the old-time Inquisitors. 



24 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

Nothing else will account for his cruel pleasure in defacing 
the tickets entrusted to his care. He has all the suspicion 
of an Inquisitor too, and will appear before you suddenly 
at odd times of the night, as though fearful that some in- 
truder has reached the carriage by way of tHe lamp-hole or 
by jumping on to the knifeboard that is his own happy 
hunting ground. 

The journey to Sevilla, by way of Algeciras and Ronda, 
or even by the lesser-known route from Huelva, is full of 
curious interest. Villages on either side recall the Moorish 
occupation of Spain. They are screened with hedges of 
cactus, aloe, and prickly pear, in fashion that suggests an 
Arab douar. Here and there one passes cork woods, the 
dark-red trunk showing beneath the stripped bark ; a file 
of mules, loaded with the produce of the woodlands, plods 
over the tracks to the music of their own tinkling bells, in 
charge of a gaily-clad muleteer. Olive and eucalyptus 
fringe the woods, and in spring the yellow gorse flames 
along the hill-sides where patches of brilliant broom and 
iris help to lend variety to the colour schemes. 

Between the stations are the huts of the signal men or 
women, and as he approaches one of these, the driver always 
puts on steam and passes at top speed as though to remind 
the watchers that a train accustomed to stop in railway 
stations cannot communicate, even distantly, with mere 
hand-signal folk. There are orchards along the road whose 
colour in blossoming time is a feast to the eye, and in spring 
the southern land is so full of flowers that one might think 
April had showered down roses instead of rain. Even the 
hard workers seem to enjoy themselves, and to remind the 
travellers that when the Moors were in Andalusia they 
raised three crops a year from one field. Now and again the 
engine runs — no, I should say strolls — through valleys cut 



IDLE DAYS IN SOUTHERN SPAIN 25 

in the limestone rock, and there one may look for romantic 
caves and rushing waterfalls, while the overwhelming white- 
ness of the earth seems to lend a deeper blue to the sky, a 
keener freshness to the air. Here and there one passes a 
bull-farm, where the fierce animals are bred for the Plaza 
de Toros. You see the bulls feeding peacefully, knee-deep 
in lush grasses born of the first rains, with some ganadero 
or bull-farmer — always a horseman and a dandy — watching 
over their welfare. Anon one encounters a herd of pigs 
driven by some barefooted lad who is puffing at a cigarette, 
though in all probability he has not a real to his credit. 
Poor he may be, and hard-worked, but he has all the sun- 
shine he requires, sufficient food, of the coarsest kind, and 
no knowledge of the more complicated problems that come 
into life side by side with education. So he passes along 
the dusty road that winds like a white thread amid the fields, 
singing to his heart's content as he drives his restless charges 
to pastures new, and the pigs do not mind his singing so 
long as he finds them roots and acorns in plenty. Sometimes 
when he has found suitable pasture for his charges, he turns 
his thoughts to music and plays a pipe, as did the shepherds 
whom Theocritus has made immortal. 

If you travel far enough on the Spanish railway you come 
to a really big junction, where trains congregate and a long 
dejeuner is served in the restaurant. There you may chance 
to find the train that carries his Spanish Majesty's mails, the 
*' Oficina Ambulante Servicio de Correos ". It is splendidly 
blazoned, and is as full of pride as of letters, but it is never 
in a hurry. I remember some years ago reaching Bobadilla 
Junction on a journey to the capital. A mail train south- 
ward bound was in the station. I was preparing to make 
my way to the buffet when the guard warned me to stay 
where I was. *' We are not going to stop," he explained, 



26 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

*^we are late already." I could see the restaurant and hear 
the stimulating clatter of spoons against plate ; I saw white- 
aproned waiters moving with dignity to and fro, laden with 
the good things of the earth. I felt inclined to let the train 
go on its way, but in the morning I had wired to a friend to 
meet me in Madrid, and delay would have cost me twenty- 
four hours. So I remained as disconsolate as the Peri out- 
side the gate of Paradise, and far more hungry. Some 
twenty-five minutes later the engine driver ceased to talk 
politics with his brother of the mail train and a small group 
of unshaven patriots, and condescended to accept the long- 
standing invitation of the signals. When the train reached 
Madrid on the following morning my friend was nowhere 
to be seen. Slowly though we had travelled, we had out- 
paced the telegraph office, and my telegram arrived in the 
afternoon. Perhaps it was sent by post. In countries where 
public service is poorly paid, and business is a negligible 
quantity, stranger things happen, and the secrets of the 
Spanish post office are as many, though not so gruesome, as 
those of the Inquisition. 

Even night travel on Spanish trains is full of interest, 
and the evening colour along the line is splendid. The 
sunsets, with some wonderful scene painted on a background 
of gold in manner that recalls the earliest art of the Tuscan 
School ; the hush that comes over the land with fading 
light, conjuring up memories of landscapes by Puvis de 
Chavannes or Camille Pissarro ; the blossoming trees that 
look like ghosts, and the little girls holding signal lights by 
the side of butts set at some wood's edge, just as though 
they were kindly fairies — these are things not to be for- 
gotten. The journey is not without its troubles. When a 
station is reached little boys come to the railway carriage 
to shout, "Agua, Agua". Officious porters will insist 



IDLE DAYS IN SOUTHERN SPAIN 27 

upon renewing foot-warmers, though the carriage is already 
unpleasantly hot. Your .fellow-travellers have a most 
unhealthy contempt for ventilation, and, in the miniature 
whirlwind that follows the sudden opening of the carriage 
window, the ticket tormentor pays a midnight call to do 
what further harm he can to the uncomplaining piece of 
pasteboard under the cover of darkness. But as soon as 
the morning comes, you forget these discomforts, and when 
you see shepherd or goatherd lying on the grass and pip- 
ing to some Amaryllis who sits not too far away, you may 
think for a moment in Milton's words that " Time has run 
back to bring the Age of Gold ". 

It is time to leave the train now, for to tell the truth the 
days one spends there are not quite idle. The scene shifts 
too rapidly ; the call upon the eye and ear are too insistent, 
and even the Spanish train takes you to your destination, if 
you will bear with it patiently. For me the two idlest and 
sunniest cities of Spain are Cordoba and Sevilla, both on the 
Guadalquivir, both steeped to the turrets in the Moorish 
tradition. Indeed, Guadalquivir is no more than the native 
rendering of Wad el Kebir, which is Moghrebbin Arabic for 
" The Great River ". 

When the train leaves me at Cordoba and ambles off 
with other travellers bound elsewhere, I like to banish all 
thoughts of the larger world, and to be as far removed from 
letters and newspapers as are the monks and hermits of the 
Sierra Morena, the hills that girdle Cordoba and may have 
heard the echoes of Rozinante's hoofs when Don Quixote 
fared abroad to win undying fame for Dulcinea de Toboso, 
The little city is quite Moorish, almost as Mohammedan in 
aspect and feeling as it was in the far-ofif days when the 
Caliphs held sway, when the mueddin looked out over the 
Court of Oranges, where Abdurrahman's fountain splashes 



28 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

still, and when the echoes of his sonorous call to prayer 
rolled through the Hall of a Thousand Columns. Some 
seven hundred of these pillars still remain. They are of 
the rarest marble, and not easily to be seen in the perpetual 
gloom — a gloom which in the palmy days of Islam was 
dissipated by eight thousand lamps. Even to-day the 
Court of Oranges has much of the aspect of the East, and 
the beggars who sun themselves there or seek the shade of 
cypress or of palm during the '* hours of fire '' seem to be 
part of a world that has nothing in common with the 
twentieth century. 

Cordoba is a city of narrow streets, built to give shade 
to the passers. There are few windows to the houses, and 
those are heavily barred. The pavements are cobbled, 
there are not many vdiicles, even if we include the antique 
berlinas drawn by mules. The great Mosque has become a 
cathedral, and its famous chamber, with shell-shaped roof 
— cut from a single piece of marble, richly inlaid with mo- 
saics, and once the abiding-place of a world-renowned copy 
of the Koran — is now a chapel. They say that Charles V 
seeing the changes made by his clergy, said : " You have 
erected what any man might have built ; you have destroyed 
what was unique in the world ". 

In the sleepy market-place, where the glow from the 
oranges and lemons seems to light up the dark faces of the 
women who sell them, there are countless little cicadas for 
sale in tiny cages. The poor little insects have no room to 
turn round, but they sing as cheerfully as they did among 
the tree-tops in the days when they were free. Life here, 
as in other parts of Spain, is full of cruelty ; the indifference 
to the sufferings of what we are pleased to call lower forms 
of life is very noticeable. Cordoba has one cafe beloved of 
the bull-fighting fraternity, where I have seen the famous 



IDLE DAYS IN SOUTHERN SPAIN 29 

Rafael Guerra, Spain's greatest bull-fighter, now retired. I 
remember the days, nearly fifteen years ago, when he was 
at the top of his form, and could kill as many as nine or 
ten bulls a day, travelling in order to do so from one town 
to another by special train. Then he was so well-beloved 
of the populace that he could draw an income of thirty or 
forty thousand pounds a year from his poverty-stricken 
country. To-day he is rich beyond the dreams of avarice — 
a Spaniard's dreams — and has a great estate outside Cor- 
doba, this quaint old city wherein, folks say, his father 
worked as a butcher. You see toreadors in plenty at this 
same cafe of his special choice, vigorous, athletic men, who 
wear short coats, open-worked shirt-fronts, and tight waist- 
bands and have their hair in a pigtail called the coleta. 
There is a bull-ring close to the railway station, but it is a 
plaza of the second class, in no way renowned. They say 
Guerrita swore when he retired that he would fight no more 
until Spain is a republic. Spain must hurry up. 

In Cordoba you may be idle all day. Time himself 
seems to drop the hot-toot pace at which he drives the 
bustling West. Such industries as the place may have are 
chiefly agricultural. The shopkeepers do not seek custom, 
and if it come in the hours when they are wont to take 
a siesta, they positively resent it. I remember visiting an 
old bootmaker's shop at one or two o'clock in the after- 
noon, when I should have been asleep. He told me as 
much, and as my Spanish ran very lamely to apologies and 
explanations, it was some time before I could get the sorely 
tried man to accept my expressions of regret. Then when 
the boots were purchased, he had no change, and wanted 
me to give him back the boots and come on the following 
day ! 

In the wayside ventas and ventorillos you find the same 



ristfl 
t 

1 



30 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

attitude. You can have what is to hand and must cheerfully 
forego the rest. No discipline could be better for the tourist 
who imagines that the earth and the fulness thereof are at 
his disposal so soon as he is pleased to loosen his purse 
strings. Residence in Cordoba would set him right, but 
then tourists do not visit the town, or if they do, it is only 
for a night and a day. They see little or nothing of the city 
in its home aspect, though they may get a glimpse at the* 
wonderful monasteries, the palaces, hospital, colleges, the 
prison that was formerly the royal palace of the Alcazar. 
They can never realize or appreciate the more subtle quality 
of a city that ranked once as the most important in Spain, 
home of the first Roman colony in the country, capital of the 
Moorish dominions, and, even to-day, so conscious of its high 
descent, that none of the storms which agitate less stately 
cities can stir its deep content. Learn to accept the lesson 
Cordoba has to teach, and you have mastered no little part 
of the art of rational living. 

By night the sereno, or watchman, keeps watch and ward 
over Cordoba's safety, though it is permissible to suggest 
that nobody in the city has sufficient enterprise to set up 
business as a burglar. Indeed, the malefactor, were he 
young and active, could deal readily with the sereno, who is 
old and feeble. To be sure he carries a lantern, a spear, 
and a rattle, but his hardest task is to proclaim the hour in 
the wake of the city's clocks, to declare that the face of the 
night is fair or cloudy, and to praise the Maria Santisima 
from whom all blessings flow. Yet the sereno presents a 
welcome figure as you stroll into the city in the small still 
hours from some country-side inn that knows no licensing 
laws, and will supply all your simple wants until the pro- 
prietor can no longer keep awake. The sereno will court- 
eously lead you home if you have lost the clue to the maze 



IDLE DAYS IN SOUTHERN SPAIN 31 

streets lying so peacefully under the pale light of the moon, 
and though he be as poor as the cathedral mice, he is every 
inch a gentleman, your friend and obliging companion. 
Even the little tribute that marks your parting does nothing 
to lower him in his own eyes or yours. 

From Cordoba to Sevilla it is no far cry. You can make 
a walking journey of it in four days by way of Carmona and 

Alcala, an easy ride in three, and if you are in a hurry a 

most unlikely case— you can ride hard, or if too tired for 
violent exercise you can take the train. The dusty road is 
best for all its faults, and for all the roughness of its way- 
side accommodation. On the road by the Guadalquivir's 
banks, in a part where some cypress-^trees gave the surround- 
ing country quite a melancholy aspect, I once met the most 
tattered beggar I have ever seen. Only the special grace of 
the Maria Santisima kept his rags together ; his worldly pos- 
sessions were a staff, a frayed leather wallet, a piece of hard 
bread, and a couple of oranges. And yet he was as human 
as that St Felix whom Murillo painted ; his happiness was 
positively infectious ; he sang an old ballad with a powerful 
voice that had a good sense of music, and when I gave him 
a handful of cigarettes and a couple of reals, he took off his 
tattered hat and vowed he would not change his state with 
the King. Then I noticed for the first time how beside the 
cypress-trees the yellow broom was flowering, and that 
the country-side was full of the sights and sounds and scents 
of the southern summer, and I knew "it is a pleasant thing 
for the eyes to behold the sun". When I think that the 
world has been using me ill, or reflect upon the small 
quantity of moss that rolling stones collect, I remember my 
beggar friend by the river bank a few miles out of Cordoba, 
and contentment follows on the heels of recollection. 



CHAPTER IV 

RECOLLECTIONS OF SEVILLA ^f 

IF you would be idle in good company — that is to say, 
in the company of people who should have sufficient 
education and resources to make them industrious — Sevilla 
will give you more satisfaction than almost any city of its 
size in the world. Laziness there is the order of the hour, 
the day, the year. One or two streets, like Sierpes, for ex- 
ample, are closed to vehicles. The clubs and cafes open on 
to the roadway, and there, shaded from the fierce glare of 
the sun by the awnings that stretch from roof to roof across 
the narrow street, you sit at your ease, and to quote the late 
Dr. Watts, you take no heed of time save by its flight. 

Perhaps a pretty flower girl will beg you to buy a rose or 
carnation, a beggar will stand making dumb petition by 
your side, some small boy will off'er you a newspaper, or 
unfold before you the latest edition of " La Lidia," the 
bull-fighters' paper, with illustrations in colour, or he will 
beg for a piece of sugar from the bowl before you. These are 
the most serious disturbances that are likely to threaten. 
Towards late afternoon the awnings above the Sierpes are 
withdrawn, the promenade becomes quite gay, for the 
Sevillana goes along Sierpes looking her best, not alto- 
gether unconscious perhaps that she is criticized by connois- 
seurs all the way down the street. Many a man blessed or 
banned by a small income that removes him equally from j 

32 



RECOLLECTIONS OF SEVILLA 33 

want and ambition, idles half his life away here. By the 
side of the Sevillians who have succumbed to the fascina- 
tions of Sierpes, Tennyson's "Lotus Eaters " were hard- work- 
ing men. Of course I do not speak in praise of this 
habitual idleness ; it accounts in part for Spain's loss of her 
former estate and for the corruption in high places, but, so 
far as one is justified in seeking idle days, it is at least per- 
missible to look for the spot where the art of doing nothing 
is best understood. One would not go to Sevilla to be 
industrious any more than one would go to Chicago to take 
a holiday. Only professed tourists could be guilty of con- 
duct so utterly indefensible and nobody takes tourists 
seriously, at home or abroad. 

Talking of these worthy people reminds me that they 
have their own hotels in Sevilla, large, pretentious places 
equally redeemed from real comfort and Spanish associa- 
tions. There they can be fooled to the top of their bent, 
and deluded into the belief that they have caught a glimpse 
of the real Spain. The true idler will avoid these places, 
even though his purse be as long as Midsummer Day. He 
will seek some modest house that receives a few visitors 
and makes them comfortable, he will accommodate him- 
self to the conditions of the country and the customs of 
its people. He will rise soon after the sun and enjoy his 
morning stroll while the air is cool and fresh and pious folk 
are flocking to the earliest service in the cathedral. Per- 
haps he will explore the cathedral itself, once, says legend, 
a Temple dedicated to Venus, and later, adds rumour, un- 
shamed possessor of subterranean chambers, where Holy In- 
quisition could work its will unseen upon the poor bodies of 
heretics. Sevilla was the happy hunting-ground of the In- 
quisitors. Within two centuries they burnt 30,000 people 
in the name of the Roman Catholic faith. To-day, the 



34 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

cathedral is in charge of some really clever vergers to whose 
skill I bow. When I went there for the first time and ex- 
pressed a wish to see the different chapels, famous beyond 
the country's boundaries by reason of their treasures of 
pictures or precious stones, a verger took me over the first 
one, pocketed a fee, and then remarked that the key of the 
next chapel was in the keeping of another man. This one 
showed me his share of the cathedral's beauties, took a fee, 
and handed me over to a third rogue who had a chapel in 
his charge. I grew tired of the game long before I had 
met half the earnest workers who desired to take part in it. 
Doubtless I was set down as a heretic. 

But it is not necessary to journey to Spain to find cathe- 
drals in the charge of grasping and illiterate men, nor can 
they spoil our enjoyment of what cathedrals have to show 
us. Southern Spain is full of the genius of Murillo, a master 
whose limitations are hardly to be seen in the bright light 
of his favourite city. In an age when Spanish painters 
seemed to crowd as much ugliness as was possible within 
the frame of their pictures, it must have been refreshing to 
find an artist who chose perfectly charming types for his 
Holy Mothers and Children and reached the simple heart 
of the people as none did before him and few have done 
since. 

At Easter-tide one sees in the cathedral the famous 
dance of the Seises, amid surroundings that are not readily 
forgotten. Great Church dignitaries are everywhere in 
evidence, the archbishop with golden crozier, bishops in 
their mitres, priests in blue and white. Before the high 
altar the dancing boys are grouped in a semicircle formed 
by the musicians. These lads are dressed in blue and white 
doublets, they wear white stockings and long-feathered hats. 
They sing and dance to curious old-world music belonging 



RECOLLECTIONS OF SEVILLA 35 

to any age between Palestrina and Gluck, and they mark 
time with castanets. It is a weird performance of which 
nobody knows the origin. 

Sevilla has countless charming walks. One can go 
across the Guadalquivir by the Tower of Gold, once a State 
Treasury, and so into the Triana where the gipsies live. 
It is a rare place, rivalled only by the environs of Granada. 
One can stroll along the river-side to the public gardens 
that the Duchess of Montpensier took from the grounds of 
her palace of St. Telmo and gave to the public I remember 
these gardens when they were very wild and solitary, in part 
like a jungle, and yet so rich in scent and colour that it was 
a pleasure to get lost within their mazy depths. Now alas, 
they are more tidy. The paths are cleaned, the hedges 
trimmed, the flowers shine from well-ordered beds, and 
electric trams have a right of way through the home of 
orange, lemon, and syringa trees. This suggestion of smug 
prosperity is not nearly so pleasing as the joyful poverty 
that greeted me, when an idler, I saw the garden for the first 
time only twelve years ago. 

Then Spain still owned Cuba and the Philippines, but the 
natives were in revolt and the campaign was spreading dis- 
tress from Malaga to San Sebastian. There was no public 
money for gardening work. I remember once how I was 
taking an early morning stroll through Sevilla when I heard 
the sound of martial music and hurried in its direction. In 
the Plaza San Fernando there was a great crowd of women 
and children on one side of the square, and presently, along 
the other side, a military band approached. Following, with 
the red and yellow flags a-flying, came two or three hun- 
dred recruits marching to Sevilla's southern station to 
entrain for Cadiz, where the transports lay. Spain had sent 
her best soldiers already, these were but raw lads, untrained, 



36 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

unnerved, unfit, going from the pleasant old city that had 
sheltered their boyhood to die in the Cuban swamps. And 
the women, not able to encourage them, were crying bitterly. 
I had not quite grasped the situation, and turned to an old, 
tear-stricken peasant by my side. " Where are they going, 
mother?" I said to her. " To heaven, friend," she replied, 
and told me that her three grandsons were in the ranks that 
were passing, and that her two sons had laid down their 
lives already. 

Since those days I have seen something of war and suffer- 
ing, but I cannot forget the Plaza San Fernando as it was 
on that June morning when everything under heaven seemed 
made for happiness, and was, so far as I could see, full of 
misery. One realized for the first time perhaps the atmos- 
phere of the Book of Lamentations. And yet how quickly 
the scene changed. Two days later one of Spain's great 
matadors, Espartero or Guerrita, I think, came to Sevilla to 
kill bulls " in manner that would honour the city," and the 
crowd took the horses from the great matador's carriage as 
he was going to the station in the evening and dragged him 
in triumph through that same square, with lighted torches 
that put the lamps to shame, and shouts that sent the 
startled pigeons circling round the Giralda Tower. To-day 
such an attention would be impossible, your matador rides in 
a motor-car. 

I would not be so presumptuous as to express a decided 
opinion about the Spanish temperament. Among the hardest 
workers I have found industry, thrift, and a serious purpose, 
but the higher one goes in the social scale, the less one notes 
of strenuousness. The Catalans have the brains of Spain, 
the Castilians are contented with the traditions of world 
supremacy. Where the heat is greatest and the soil most 
fertile there is a minimum of work. 



RECOLLECTIONS OF SEVILLA 37 

But we had gone for a morning walk before I began to 
moralize, and only a cock-fight could have kept me out so 
late. 

The chief objection to cock-fighting in those degenerate 
idle days lay in the difficulty of getting back to the house 
under the blaze of the noonday sun. Save for the cock-pit's 
patrons, the streets would be deserted : from end to end 
Sevilla knew no shade. But home would come in sight at 
last, and I would sit at ease among the myrtles, the orange 
trees and the white acacias in the patio that was kept cool by 
sunblinds and by a fountain that never ceased from its play. 
It is so warm in Sevilla that only the very modern houses 
boast fire-places. The others are content in winter with the 
use of the copa^ a round brass dish filled with charcoal. When 
I reflect upon this and upon the English June days that de- 
mand fires I recall Jean Paul Richter's statement that an 
English summer is merely winter painted green. 

With half-past twelve breakfast would arrive, and follow- 
ing that I would pay back to sleep the hours stolen from 
the morning, and when four o'clock brought shade in the 
wake of sunlight to the streets, it would be time to dress 
carefully, and sally forth to ride, drive, or walk, where the 
life of Sevilla congregated. Among the places worth a visit 
in the late afternoon was a large barrack-like building stand- 
ing in a big courtyard, and fronted with iron rails that could 
be seen from the gardens of the Alcazar. During the heat of 
the day it would be quiet enough, but towards evening a 
great crowd would gather by the gates — artisans, idlers, 
soldiers, all sorts and conditions of men — and women would 
stream across from the building by the score. It was 
Sevilla's great tobacco factory. Prosper Merim6e wrote the 
story of Carmen, who was a cigarrera^ and Bizet set it to 
music and gave us the delightful and familiar opera that 



38 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

takes us all to Sevilla, or as near to it as the stage-manager can 
contrive. I have seen that opera in many cities, but I have 
never seen the tobacco factory properly presented, though it 
is an eighteenth-century building and has not altered since 
the day when the story was written. I have been over the 
factory several times, and have seen the cigarreras hard at 
work, in long, bare rooms, making cigars and cigarettes that 
are better to look at than to smoke. One sees some of the 
prettiest heads in all Europe — and the emptiest. The 
flowers the girls wear in their hair are set aside for the 
time being, to be resumed when work is done, and the cig- 
arrera is free to lounge in the gardens, or patronize the little 
cafes with the rest of Sevilla^s citizens. As a rule she is a 
very industrious worker, neat and tidy, able to extract the 
last ounce of effect from the most simple ornament, fond of 
music, a passionate dancer, and ready to spend an unfair 
proportion of her earnings upon weekly visits to the plaza 
de toros. And she walks with a grace that is all to seek 
outside Spain. Tobacco is a Government monopoly, and 
is leased to a very influential company ; the piece-work system 
prevails throughout the factory, and at normal times four or 
five thousand people find employment within its walls. 

Like most cities beloved of Phoebus Apollo, Sevilla keeps 
late hours, in fact it may also be said that she turns night 
into day. By the time dinner is over the air has regained 
the coolness that left with early morning, the shops light up, 
as though they really did attach some importance to busi- 
ness after all, and the city seeks the streets. If you care for 
the theatre, you can always go and hear three zarzuelas or 
comic operas for a very little money, and, speaking of these 
entertainments, so bright, so merry, and so poorly paid, I am 
reminded that the theatrical world cannot be idle even in 
Sevilla. I have passed a theatre before ten o'clock in the 



RECOLLECTIONS OF SEVILLA 39 

morning, and heard rehearsals in full swing, and an evening 
programme thatoccupies four hours is not considered too long. 
The reward of all this service is quite inadequate. A man 
who has written the book of music of one successful musical 
comedy in London can make more money than his Spanish 
brother receives throughout the days of his life. I suppose 
the real truth is that the Spaniard has been accustomed to 
spend so much on bull-fights that playgoing has ceased to 
be taken seriously, and the stage that gave Europe a Calderon 
and a Lope de la Vega has fallen upon evil days as far as 
the remuneration of workers is concerned, though in point of 
patronage and the activity of dramatists the Spanish stage 
is more flourishing than our own, as will be suggested in 
in a later chapter. 

I do not despise the zarzuelas, as the musical comedies 
are called, but in Sevilla you waste the night in the city. 
Beyond its boundaries the country is at its best, and you 
can find a dozen little wayside inns, ventas or ventorillos, as 
they are called, where all the requirements of an idler are 
fulfilled. These are very simple, of course. You should 
want no more than a garden, one or two little arbours with 
the vine trellised over them so that in vintage-time you can 
pluck the purple grapes without effort, a bottle of white wine 
or red, some cigarettes, and a little music. In the country 
round Malaga I have spent the most enjoyable season of the 
year watching the grape harvest, but the harvest men and 
women were so active that I grew quite tired of doing noth- 
ing. Sevilla, on the other hand, never offended me with 
suggestions of work when I wanted to be idle. To be sure, 
in one garden that I favoured with more than common 
pleasure there was a defect. The place was full of roses and 
pinks, tobacco plants and sugar-cane, to say nothing of 
orange-trees, palms, rhododendrons, and one huge saffron- 



40 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

tree, pride of the place. There were trellised vines every- 
where, but my enjoyment was nearly spoilt by the water 
supply. It was the primitive Moorish well, with water-wheel 
and bucket and chain apparatus, and as the buckets came 
up full, they tilted mechanically over the wheel into little 
sloping ditches that carried the water to most distant corners 
of the garden. I might have pardoned the ceaseless ac- 
tivity of the buckets but for the fact that they were worked 
by an old blindfolded horse that, seemingly, had never 
known the luxury of an eight hours' day. He was at his 
hard labour when I went to the venta in the afternoons, and 
had not always finished when I arrived after dinner. His 
patient, plodding work seemed to reproach me ; he had 
never known what it meant to be lazy all the summer 
through. The hotter the day the more the garden needed 
water, and I could do no more than sweeten his life by giving 
him sugar, and bribing his small boy attendant not to ill- 
treat him. *' Why, he is worn out,'' explained the lad, when 
first I remonstrated with him. 

There was one other annoyance in this garden. At its 
far end, in a regular jungle of sugar-cane, palms, and rushes, 
the bull-frogs croaked incessantly. They would never be 
quiet. Tonio, the tame stork, used to walk down the garden 
every afternoon and help to depopulate the marsh, but so 
soon as the night came, the survivors would assemble, to 
pass a vote of censure upon Tonio, I suppose, and go through 
the roll-call in order to ascertain the dimensions of the 
casualty list. They kept it up till daylight, perhaps later, 
for aught I know ; I can only answer for the very earliest 
morning hours. 

At the end of the garden, where it overlooked the highway, 
there was a pagoda, a flimsy thing enough with coloured 
glass windows on all but the road side. It had a Moorish 



RECOLLECTIONS OF SEVILLA 41 

hanging lamp, a little round table, and some benches. I 
retained it three nights a week, for supper. This meal was 
served about one o'clock in the morning, or a little later, 
and was a simple afifair of meat cut into very thin slices 
and served with salads, fruit, and wine of the district. The 
pagoda's lamp could be seen for a very long way across the 
country, and before it had been alight very long, it would 
attract some wandering guitarrero, one of the tattered 
musicians who are always to be found on the open road, 
their guitar and stock of ballads being all their worldly 
wealth. He would aim for the light as surely as a moth 
goes to a candle ; perhaps one or two would see it, and then 
supper would be set to music. And such music, national, 
characteristic, with mournful Moorish cadences, but withal 
absolutely fitting the hour and the place. If the singers and 
players did but know you loved their work, they would keep 
on, heedless of the hours, and then they would accept a 
modest gift with all possible courtesy, before they passed 
singing out of sight and hearing. Even these prosaic nine- 
teenth and twentieth centuries of ours have their troubadours 
if we do but know where to look for them. In the mean- 
time, if there were globe-trotting Europeans in the big hotels 
of Sevilla, they were being entertained by native guides with 
mock Spanish dances in the patios of the hotels, or were 
taken to the cafes that have arisen even in unsophisticated 
Sevilla to trick tourists. 

During my first stay in this part of Spain, only two men 
who knew me found me. These very pushful acquaintances 
invited themselves to my pagoda, so I gave them a Spanish 
meal of the sort that only a Spaniard dare eat with impunity. 
There was puchero, of the sort in which garlic plays a 
strong and leading role ; inigas^ in which breadcrumbs highly 
seasoned and fried in oil take a prominent part, and gazpacho, 



42 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

largely compounded of bread and oil. I had prepared my- 
self for the ordeal by taking the lightest of dinners, and I 
could afford to indulge. They couldn't ; the first guitarrero 
who came along to sing and pla}^ to us was sent on a three- 
mile tramp to the city to find a cab, and my visitors never 
troubled me again. I know it was wrong to treat them in 
this fashion, but desperate diseases require desperate re- 
medies, and your cockney tourist is a dangerous disease in 
Sevilla, requiring the isolation of a cosmopolitan hotel. 

Among all the pagoda nights one stands out above the 
rest. I had invited some friends to the theatre, and to sup 
with me afterwards, and had engaged a guitarrero whose 
voice, had it been properly developed, might have made his 
fortune in opera. Of course it is at least likely that he 
would not have been so happy as he was while just singing 
for a bare subsistence. We had supped and were listening 
to his songs, when we heard the quick beat of a horse's hoofs 
and a man came down the road at a gallop. " It is the 
* encierro,' " cried our friend with the guitar, and I re- 
membered it was a Saturday night, that there was to be a 
great bull-fight on the morrow, and that the fighting bulls had 
to be driven to the arena in the darkness. The horseman 
was hurrying on to warn stray wayfarers to seek hedges, and 
the drivers of belated vehicles to get off the road as best 
they could. We stood by the open casement, and soon 
heard, above the croaking in the marsh, a far-off bellowing 
and a tinkle that recalled the sounds in an English meadow 
when the cows are coming home. The noises came steadily 
nearer, until they resolved themselves into the tramp of 
great beasts, moving clumsily to the music of cow bells.- 
Then two horsemen, carrying long poles, came in sight, 
followed by a herd of tame bullocks escorting the six black 
fighting bulls of the herd known among bull-fighters as the 



RECOLLECTIONS OF SEVILLA 43 

** herd of death," because of the damage they have wrought 
in their time. It would be impossible to bring bulls along 
the road alone, so they are kept with bullocks on the bull- 
farms and in the corrales. They get accustomed to the 
sound of the bells and will follow where the bullocks lead. 
Behind the massed bulls and bullocks rode a mixed com- 
pany of the bull-ring patrons, farmers, fighters, amateurs, 
and friends of the great diestro who was to give additional 
honour to Sevilla on the following afternoon. Such a sight 
would be impressive at any time, and in most places ; here 
under the light of the stars, and the faint glow of the 
pagoda's lamp, it was one of the most picturesque studies 
that has ever come my way. The little company moved 
along the road as far as the bull-ring, beyond which great 
bonfires were burning, to keep even restless bulls from 
venturing farther and make them well content to turn. 

I suppose some description of bull-fighting is held to be 
a part of every record of life in Spain, but I do not propose 
to say anything here about the actualities of the plaza de 
toros. They are very ugly, and I cannot conceal their ugli- 
ness ; indeed, I would not if I could. As far as is necessary 
some account will be given in a later chapter. Not without 
very careful consideration, I have come to the conclusion 
that in bull-fighting, as practised in Spain, the vices outweigh 
the virtues. When I went to Andalusia for the first time, 
I saw nothing beyond the supremely vivid picture that the 
arena affords. The strong light, the gay dresses of the 
women, the splendid costumes of the bull-fighters, the bar- 
baric music, the courage of the matador, the strength and 
ferocity of the bull — these impressions dominate all others. 
I was sorry in a vague way for the horses, but my senses 
could not grasp the full misery of their plight, because 
nobody round me noted it. Only when I returned to Spain 



44 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

after an absence of four years did I realize a change. I 
found myself idle in Madrid, on an afternoon when a great 
fight was to be held, and I drove out to the crowded Plaza 
by myself. The animated crowd stirred me as of old time, 
for Madrid was in full season, and the sight along the road 
was a splendid one ; but before the fight was half over I 
was driving home again, to the mingled amusement and 
contempt of the coachman. 

In the early days I had seen little or nothing of human 
suffering ; now I realized its meaning, if only to a limited 
extent, and I went home, wondering how I could have gone 
at any time to such a degrading spectacle as a bull-fight. 
Spanish children are taken at a tender age to the arena, and 
applaud sights that would sicken you or me. Can it be 
that their parents never realized the horrors, and that their 
little ones are growing up to be equally ignorant ? When 
they have reached manhood or womanhood the habit of 
visiting \h& plaza de toros will be so rooted that they will not 
think anything of it. I cannot express a decided opinion ; 
I am content to make the suggestion. It may help to solve 
a problem that has baffled many people. 

A friend of mine who likes the excitement of the great 
gathering drives or rides out to the plaza de toros when he 
is in Spain, and goes early to his seat. There he watches 
the crowd assemble, and the arrival of the President, enjoys 
the music of the Spanish National Anthem, the splendid 
entry of the cuadrillas in their capas de paseo^ the delivery of 
the toril key to the alguaziles, the triumphant onrush of the 
first doomed bull. Then he leaves his seat, oblivious quite 
of the scoffing remarks of rude neighbours, and goes home. 

The only country I know in which bull-fighting has no 
cruelty worth mentioning is Portugal. In Lisbon, Oporto, 
and Alges, you can see splendid fights in which no horses 



RECOLLECTIONS OF SEVILLA 45 

suffer save by accident. No bulls are killed, and no men 
are seriously hurt. I can still enjoy these mild encounters, 
particularly when some great Spanish diestro comes across 
the border, and, being full of contempt for animals whose 
horns are cased in leather, awaits the bull's charge seated 
in a chair, or with no other aid than can be given by a 
slender pole, leaps right over the head of an animal coming 
down upon him at full gallop. But these matters belong to 
idle days in Portugal, and though I have placed many to 
my credit, further reference to them here would be out of 
place. 

Pan y toros, bread and bulls ! That has been the cry of 
the Spanish proletariat these very many years. Only lately 
a ministerial decree forbade bull-fighting on Sundays, but 
this decree was rescinded, and a nervous Government has 
given the people their Sunday bulls once more. 



CHAPTER V 

THE CHURCH IN SPAIN 

THE Church in Spain ! Though one or two chapters 
must suffice me here, how many would be required to 
enable a writer to deal even briefly with such a stupendous 
scheme ? When the mind turns to the subject there passes 
before the mental vision a long procession of kings, princes, 
popes, cardinals, founders of brotherhoods — some militant, 
some purely clerical, and others combining both — saints, the 
record of whose lives thrills us to the heart even now, con- 
quistadores carrying the sword and the cross to new worlds, 
there to leave marks on the tablets of time that the traveller 
may see to-day, ascetics, martyrs, inquisitors — a company 
whose lines seem to " stretch to the crack of doom ". Ideal- 
ism, statecraft, bigotry, love, mysticism, cruelty, the cunning 
of the Jesuit and the simplicity of the little child — all stand 
on record, and we are left with the overwhelming impression 
that in all the history of the world the seeds of faith never 
fell on more prolific soil. Some of the seed ripened into 
splendid fruit, of which any civilization may be proud, but 
the greater part of it produced monstrous growths that thrust 
their roots among the foundations of the Empire and over- 
turned them. Spain's greatest glories and Spain's greatest 
shame are associated with her religion. It helped her to 
conquer the world but compelled her to force illiteracy upon 
her own people ; helped her to rear the tree of faith and im- 

46 



THE CHURCH IN SPAIN 47 

pelled her to nourish its roots in blood ; enabled her to create 
a great Empire and then brought about its downfall. Even 
to-day, when the Church in Spain is no more than ^' a remnant 
most forlorn of what it was," it proves comfort for thousands 
of sick souls and stifles the moral and intellectual develop- 
ment of millions. 

The traveller in Spain will be quick to see that, although 
free-thought is spreading, old-time superstitions retain their 
grip upon the national mind, and that, while agnosticism 
flourishes most in progressive districts like Catalonia, the 
life of the Spanish village is shadowed from the cradle to 
the grave by the representatives of a once dominant faith. 
Political parties have attacked the Church again and again ; 
they have reduced its wealth, cut down its privileges, and 
restricted the area of its influence. But all these efforts 
have failed to do more than prune a vigorous tree, and while 
Castile continues to govern Spain and the leading ladies of 
the Royal house are more accessible to Church influence 
than to any other, there will be little change. Should the 
republicans realize their ambitions, the very foundations of 
ecclesiastical influence will be uprooted, but the regionalism 
rampant throughout the country makes united action practi- 
cally impossible. When the Ethiopian can change his skin 
and the leopard his spots, all Spain, the north, south, east, 
and west, will unite in the common cause of progress ; until 
that day it is at least exceedingly likely that the Church will 
remain the strongest institution. When Portugal enforced 
its old Law of Associations a few years ago, and across the 
Pyrenees France did the same, some attempt was made in 
Spain to follow suit, but the effort ended in complete failure, 
and may be said to have strengthened the hold of the Church 
upon the people. The matrimonial alliance between Spain 
and Austria, when Alfonso XII married Queen Maria 



48 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

Cristina, was a tower of strength to the ecclesiastical party, 
and has remained so ever since to the despair of those who 
hold a perfectly honest belief that the country's future will 
depend upon the Church's downfall. It may be noted 
here that the Church moves nowadays with more caution 
than it has practised hitherto, though the influence of the 
Jesuits is very marked in Court and Cabinet. But the iron 
hand needs a thicker velvet glove than it has ever required 
before, for while Liberalism is only beginning to rise from 
its low estate in Spain just now. Commercialism is at a pre- 
mium, and in the wake of commercial development hun- 
dreds of remote country districts are coming into practical 
touch with life for the first time in their history. Nor is 
the literary activity of Catalonia to be despised. The print- 
ing presses are hard at work ; there are books in plenty for 
the small but ever-growing circle that will read them, and as 
new ideas permeate into a soil wellnigh choked with super- 
stition, a few at least spring up into active life. 

Let us consider for a moment the influence of the Church 
upon the Spaniard from his cradle to his grave. A few 
days after his birth he is taken to the church for baptism, 
and though in a poor parish, where the priest gets little or 
nothing for his pains, the ceremony is but a brief one, its 
neglect would create a sensation. It may be said that con- 
vention rather than faith is responsible for the ceremony, 
for there never was a country in which superstition and 
convention outweighed faith as they do in Spain. Among 
the upper classes the function of baptism is associated with 
a mass of ceremonials that is eminently pleasing to the 
Spanish mind. The ceremony takes place in the nave ; a 
full choir is employed and the organist is in attendance ; 
the godmother holds out the infant to receive the holy 
water on the forehead, oil on the neck, and the cross on its 



THE CHURCH IN SPAIN 49 

lips ; the prayers are said in Latin, but the necessary ques- 
tions are asked and answered in Spanish ; then the names 
are entered in the parish register and the priest receives his 
douceur. It has already been remarked that no Spanish child 
can receive a name that does not figure in the calendar of 
saints. This church service, though customary, is not obliga- 
tory, and free-thinkers — a growing class in Spanish towns — 
register their child in the local alcaldia and contrive to give it 
some name that no saint has ever enjoyed. It is on record 
in Barcelona that a gentleman, who combined the principles 
of free-thought with the practice of anarchy, endeavoured to 
have his boy named ^* Acid sulfurico " (Sulphuric Acid), after 
the chemical that is so undeniably useful in carrying out 
the propaganda of his belief. For reasons best known to 
themselves, the Government officials refused to saddle the 
babe with such a burden, and the indignant father was 
compelled to choose one less significant. After baptism 
comes an entertainment at the house of the parents — an 
entertainment in which the alluring, irresistible pastry of 
Spain plays a worthy part, and the sugar-coated almonds 
associated with marriage ceremonies are also to be found. 
Throughout his childhood, the young Spaniard lives on 
intimate terms with Church ceremonial. He sees the 
ecclesiastical influence entering into all festivities ; there will 
be a miniature altar in his mother's bedroom, surrounded 
by her chain of beads ; he will go once or twice to church 
on Sunday ; his attention will be called to the religious aspect 
of the feria; nuns will be among his mother's visitors, and 
he will be taught to regard them as privileged people. 
There will be few rooms in his parents' house free from some 
highly coloured picture of saint or martyr — one of Murillo's 
most famous Assumptions, often as a vile oleograph in a 
cheap frame, prominent among them. He will hear the 
4 



50 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

Deity and the Virgin invoked daily and see the sign of the 
cross made on every possible occasion, even upon a loaf before 
cutting. He will feel even in his earliest years that the 
Church rules no small part of his parents' lives and will in 
turn rule his own ; nor will the influence of the priest fail 
to make itself felt during his schooldays. It may even be 
that some of his aunts or cousins have already taken the veil 
and that the prospects of his sisters' doing the same are fre- 
quently discussed before him. He will not fail to see that, 
although the Church does not lay open claim to omni- 
potence, its power to rule the lives around him is not dis- 
puted. As far as is possible he is kept away from any 
influence that may tend to corrupt his beliefs, and he learns 
to regard the Church as the high power to which the order 
of his present life and the destiny of the future one are irrevo- 
cably committed. At the most impressionable period of his 
young life he will be taken on certain days in the year to 
visit relatives and friends in the religious houses, to find 
himself in vast sombre buildings still adorned with more 
than a little of their old splendour, still following the very 
letter of the regulations laid down by some pious founder, 
and still possessing to all outward seeming the spirit of 
tranquillity and contentment that seems to breathe a higher 
life than ours. He will be taken to see holy relics handled 
with supreme veneration, and will be taught how, through 
many centuries of strife and unrest, the religious house has 
fulfilled its destiny and opened for the elect a path to the 
world to come. Let us not forget that the Spanish child is 
highly imaginative, and that life in cities, watched over by an 
ardent sun, stimulates the imagination to an extent not to 
be easily realized by dwellers in colder climes. 

The lad passes on to puberty, and finds that the same force 
that directed his childhood will control his youth. He has 



THE CHURCH IN SPAm 51 

walked rather self-consciously through the streets, wear- 
ing the white badge of confirmation on his sleeve, in com- 
pany with other lads of his own age and girls all clad in 
white, and the parish priest has prepared him for his entry 
into the larger life that the years of puberty spread out be- 
fore him. He knows that his sisters go regularly to con- 
fession, and he believes that the intercession of the local 
saint can save the current of any ambition from turning 
awry. It may be that he himself will make an occasional 
visit to the confessional, if the local priest should chance to 
be a man of commanding personality, although it is only 
fair to add that the average Spanish boy prefers to entrust 
nobody but himself with the story oihis pecadillos. Of the 
light love which comes in his way we need take no account 
in this place, merely remarking that sun-stricken lands are 
not conducive to a high standard of sexual morality, and the 
Spanish boy has far fewer opportunities than an English 
lad for the active exercise which tends to produce a healthy 
mind in an active body. But when the time for marriage 
comes, and the young Spaniard seeks a permanent alliance, 
he knows that it must be confirmed and regulated by Mother 
Church, whose influence overshadows this, the most impor- 
tant moment of his life. 

Civil marriage of the kind so increasingly popular in 
France and so often met in this country is hardly known in 
Spain, though of course it obtains in the republican region of 
Catalonia where the people as a class are opposed to the 
Church. In the remote villages, where the hand of the 
parish priest lies so heavily upon the community, civil mar- 
riage is unknown, and the couple proposing to embark 
upon the sea of matrimony without the preliminary bless- 
ing of the Church, would have a very poor time indeed. 
Their marriage would not be regarded as legal. It is not 



52 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

so much an act of religious faith that stands in the way ; it 
is the tradition and convention that are so much more deeply- 
rooted than belief. A fortnight before the intended marriage 
the banns are published in the church, and ere the great 
day arrives the ceremonies of confession and communion 
have been gone through by both contracting parties. The 
marriage celebration seems to be limited only by the purse 
of the family of bridegroom and bride, and varies from a 
quaint simplicity that takes due heed of local custom, and 
is extremely picturesque, up to a heavy, cumbersome, and 
cosmopolitan ceremonial which must be extremely trying 
to those chiefly concerned. The Spaniard can hardly be 
called an ostentatious man, but there are times in his life 
when he likes to fling restraint to the wind and to impress 
upon his neighbours the full extent of his capacity for spend- 
ing money. Marriage is one of these rare occasions and 
often leaves a little load of debt behind. 

After marriage the Spaniard places the burden of prayer 
upon his wife's shoulders and hands her over cheerfully to a 
Church for which he himself has little more than toleration. 
The average Spanish woman has a large measure of what, 
for lack of a better term, may be called devotion. She is 
the most regular patron of the priest. She enters church 
with covered head ; for failing a hat or the mantilla that she 
wears with such exquisite grace, she covers her head with a 
handkerchief As she enters she dips her hand in the font 
of holy water, and any companions may receive the full 
effect of its efficacy by touching her fingers and making the 
sign of the cross with the thumb of the right hand. The 
action is very rapid and briefer than the elaborate sign that 
is common in France. Forehead, chin, left cheek, and right 
cheek mark in turn the limits of the cross, and then the 
thumb is kissed and the simple ceremony is over. Unless 



THE CHURCH IN SPAIN 53 

you look carefully at the woman who enters a church her 
rapid, furtive action may escape your notice altogether. 

In France and Italy the wayside cross is a common object 
in the country-side, and it is often a very ugly erection de- 
signed to stimulate the sense of faith rather than the sense 
of beauty. In Spain they contrive to make a more fitting 
appeal to the devout wayfarer. On convent walls, in corri- 
dors of great factories, like the famous home of Carmen, one 
encounters little shrines with perhaps rather more scarlet 
and tinsel than is absolutely necessary to stimulate our 
sense of colour, and a figure of the Virgin — the local Virgin 
one might say — with a little lamp before it. The term " local 
Virgin " will doubtless puzzle many people who do not know 
that the intensely regional patriotism of the Spaniard classes 
the Virgin under many heads. There is the Virgin of Pilar 
and the Virgin of Dolores, the Virgin of Carmen and many 
others who need not be enumerated, and the Spaniard who 
worships one of these regards the others as strangers, and 
will take no account of them. In fact, though his theology 
teaches him that there is no more than one Virgin, he will 
be heard to speak very disrespectfully indeed of all Virgins 
save his own. Throughout Andalusia the full number of 
Virgins can only be known to the experts of the Church, 
and it is on this account that the country is called La Tierra 
de Maria Santisima. 

In the gloomy north, where fear lays its griping hand upon 
the rank and file, the prospects of death create a consterna- 
tion that is one of the Church's most valuable assets. Even 
in the laughter-loving south the approach of the King of 
Terrors is dreaded, but in the north people fear to die save 
on the battle-field. Few sights can be more impressive 
than those that accompany death in a city of Northern 
Spain. 



54 



HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 



When the priest walks in his robes through the dim 
streets attended after nightfall by acolytes bearing torches, 
the passers-by kneel at the summons of the bell that is 
carried in the procession, and they say a credo for the soul 
now passing beyond all the care and joys of mortal life. 
Sometimes the priest travels in a closed carriage, moving at 
a slow pace and surrounded by attendants. The business 
of the thoroughfare is suspended ; a wave of devotion seems 
to surge along the narrow way and all the people fall on 
their knees. On balconies and miradores the women 
who only a moment ago were holding animated conversa- 
tion as they scanned people below, relapse into silence 
and sink upon their knees. In that moment some sense of 
what awaits one and all penetrates every heart, and even in 
the districts where the influence of the Church is at its 
lowest the majority succumb to the passing of death, while 
the minority bares its head. 

Half of the double entrance door is shut in the house of 
death, and the bedroom in which the deceased rests is 
turned into a capella ardiente^ where the corpse lies in an 
open coffin with candles burning at the head and foot and 
the cross upon its breast. Round the bed the nuns in the 
garb of their order, white Carmelites or brown Franciscans, 
pray ceaselessly for the soul gone to the bourne from which 
no traveller returns. 

Burial follows upon the heels of death, and in the country 
districts men and women follow the coffin, while in the 
town the women remain at home. The funeral ceremonial 
varies from extreme simplicity to a display that seems to 
mock the occasion. Among the very poor the State is the 
undertaker. A one-horse vehicle without attendants carries 
the coffin to ^^foso comun^ and the dead disappears utterly 
without so much as the tribute of a wooden cross. High 



THE CHURCH IN SPAIN 55 

up in the social scale the order of procedure is very different 
and simplicity would not be tolerated for a moment. Per- 
haps one of the great dignitaries of the Church will ac- 
company the procession ; torches and candles in silver 
candlesticks issue their feeble challenge to the sun ; the 
coffin, richly decorated, is carried in a hearse that glitters 
with silver and glass and is almost covered by masses 
of beautiful flowers. The trappings of the six or eight 
horses that take the dead to his last home are as brilliant 
as money can make them. In the case of a statesman or a 
great soldier or a Prince of the Church, the military are 
called out to take part in the procession, and when a Senator, 
a Deputy, or an Academician departs this life, th.Q comitatzva^ 
as the procession is called, starts from Senate House, or 
Academy where, by the permission of the family, the body 
has lain in state. If the dead should have chanced to have 
been a great torero, the authorities must be represented to 
keep in order the vast concourse that has assembled from 
every part of the city, quite indifferent to the calls of daily 
labour, to pay the last honours to one who has so often 
" conferred honour upon the city " by the certainty of the 
stroke that drove the glittering " espada " through the bull's 
lungs and heart. 

In Spain, as in other Catholic countries, there is a day of 
All Saints, and it is set aside by all classes, from the lower 
middle class upwards, to visit the graves of their dead. 
The well-beloved of the very poorest have no memorial ; 
there is no sign by which willing feet and eager eyes can 
travel to the spot that is above all others sacred. The 
foso comiin will yield its secret, if at all, to the Angel of the 
Resurrection, and the prayers that may shorten the period 
of purgatory for the departed are said by the parish priest 
who prays for one and all. At the same time those who 



56 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

have the wherewithal can not only secure the extra service 
known as the novena^ nine days after the ordinary burial 
service, but can also order special masses for departed 
friends. These vary in length, and presumably in efficacy, 
from the single mass that costs no more than the widow^s 
mite can purchase, up to perpetual masses guaranteed for 
all time to the donor of an altar. All Saints' Day is marked 
in Spain by rather more reserve than we find in France. 
Spain has few beautiful cemeteries, nothing to compare 
with the Campi Santi of the great Italian cities, or the P^re 
Lachaise in Paris. Certainly the cemetery of San Lorenzo 
in Madrid has family vaults crowned with fine groups in 
marble and bronze, and Spain has its Pantheon for those 
distinguished in State and the Arts, while kings sleep in 
peace in the lordly Escorial, but the rest of Spain is not 
endowed with great burial grounds. 

As soon as the country began to recover from the financial 
depression caused by the troubles in the Philippines and 
the American War, a great enthusiasm for sculpture de- 
clared itself; not only the dead who were illustrious— or 
would have been illustrious if they could — were singled out 
for distinction and such immortality as marble may confer, 
but the living were caught in the net of popular enthusiasm 
— if they did not deliberately seek to be entangled in its 
meshes. 

It is a custom in Spain for a city to give the honourable 
title of hijo predilecto (chosen son) to one of its citizens who 
has gained special distinction in some walk of life. The 
custom corresponds to the British ceremony of conferring 
the freedom of a city upon some worthy gentleman who 
would, as often as not, rather be without it. In the case 
referred to above the hijo predilecto was a sculptor whose 
estudio was not exactly groaning under the weight of com- 



THE CHURCH IN SPAIN 57 

missions, and it occurred to him — or let us be charitable and 
say to his admirers — that if he could carve his own statue 
at the expense of the city, he would provide himself with 
present occupation, 'adequate remuneration, and immortality 
of which he could gather the assured foretaste. Unfortun- 
ately, as Robert Burns remarked, " the best laid schemes of 
mice and men gang aft agley ". The story reached some 
witty members of the Fourth Estate, and in place of occu- 
pation, emoluments, and immortality, the poor hijo predilecto 
was forced to content himself with a very large allowance of 
ridicule. But there is something in the idea that deserves 
attention. There are several men and women in our own 
country who know full well that they deserve a statue from 
the town they have honoured by their birth or residence. 
May the simple little story just told give them the necessary 
precedent and impetus. 

It has been pointed out that superstition enters largely 
into the measure of observance accorded to Church ritual in 
Spain. But superstition is so widespread in its range and 
so gross in its character, that some examples may well be 
set down in detail. 

In the Monastery of (juadelupe there is a fine collection 
of pictures by Zurbardn, the great mystic of Spanish art, and 
a few years ago, when an exhibition of the master's work 
was held in Madrid, it was decided by the authorities to 
borrow these pictures. The monastic heads were quite 
willing, but the villagers were well assured that misfortune 
would follow if they were removed, and it was necessary to 
send a company of the Guardia Civil to the spot to protect 
those who were entrusted with the removal of the works 
around which a perfect network of most fanciful superstitions 
was woven. 

Although the Church looks askance at the belief in witch- 



58 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

craft, and does all it can to discourage it, the countryman 
in Spain has a devout belief in wizards and witches. Dreams 
are full of significance for him ; he seeks protection from 
evil spirits and from the Evil Eye ; some natural events 
betoken good fortune, others are held to be the precursors of 
disaster. In the south, where superstition is no whit less 
rampant than in the north, snakes are regarded with special 
horror ; the mere mention of their name is sufficient to make 
the hearer cry *' lagarto^ lagarto'' (lizard), and stretch out 
the first two fingers of his right hand. Only in this way 
can some terrible disaster be averted. Your bull-fighter is 
the most superstitious of men, and although he will face a 
bull that is mad with pain and fury, he will turn pale with 
terror if one of the bulls emerges from the toril in an uncon- 
ventional manner. The matador himself, when he takes 
espadaand muleta for his final encounter with the bull, wets 
the tip of his finger with his tongue and applies that finger 
to the point of the sword, knowing that in this fashion alone 
can he avoid the dreaded cogida. Cogida is a portmanteau 
word, and is used to express the accident that befalls when 
the bull manages to reach the matador. Every great diestro 
has endured a cogida, and to a few the experience has been 
fatal. 

Superstition enters into some alliance with the Church in 
the frequent use of the sign of the cross to avert disaster, 
imaginary or real. This sign is often made when startling 
intelligence is conveyed to women even of the educated 
classes. 

Far worse than these forms of superstition are those that 
obtain in the very remote country districts where priest and 
doctor — to say nothing of the schoolmaster — are quite 
powerless to deal with customs that would seem to precede 
the dawn of civilization. In such places the influence of 



THE CHURCH IN SPAIN 59 

the local wise man or wise woman is a terrible power for 
evil. Parents take their sick children to these people and 
follow horrible prescriptions that cannot be set down here, 
with the result that the small sufferers can have no better 
fortune than to die quickly. Witchcraft, like everything 
else in Spain, is regional and consequently exercises a far 
more potent sway in the gloomy north than in the sunny 
south ; here one finds a measure of native humour that acts 
as a more potent counterblast to the words of wise men and 
wise women than all the thunders of the Church. 

It is impossible to close this chapter without reference to 
the sinister part played by the Jesuits in Spain. Their 
influence rules Court and Cabinet even to-day, and it extends 
through all classes of the community : the confessional being 
beyond a doubt the medium through which their work is 
done. Once the Jesuit has gained the ear of the house, he 
will retain it for all time. Indeed, there is a Spanish saying 
to the effect that the Jesuit can always have the ownership 
of the house in which he has been permitted to hang up 
his hat. Some of the Jesuit confessors in Madrid have an 
extraordinary following among women of the highest class^ 
and it is notorious that they use their influence for purely 
political purposes. If it were not that the personal note 
is out of place in a work like this, chapter and verse 
could be given. At the same time it must be confessed 
that there is nothing in Spain so finely ordered, so splendidly 
controlled or carried out with a clearer conception of vital 
aims regardless of the means to the end, than the order of 
Jesuits. The hand that is nowhere seen is everywhere felt, 
and if the tremendous forces of Jesuitism had been devoted 
with equal success to Spain's progress, the country would 
probably compare favourably with any in Europe. 

As things are, the organization, pertinacity, and loyalty 



6o HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

of the Jesuits has postponed their downfall indefinitely, and 
while their practical qualities remain as they are to-day, 
he would be a bold man who would venture to predict 
the downfall of the order in Spain. Indeed, it has received 
valuable and unexpected support in high places during the 
past few years, and is stronger now than it was some 
years ago. But if Sefior Maura was in earnest when he 
denounced the famous treaty between Liberals and Con- 
servatives, the treaty that has kept progressive parties out 
of power in Spain, the day of reckoning may come within 
our time. 



CHAPTER VI 

CHURCH FESTIVALS 

THE ritual of the Roman Catholic Church, always rich 
and stately, seems to reach its culminating point on 
the occasion of an important Festival. Not only are the 
great wealth and vast tradition of the Church made manifest 
to those who crowd the streets, but the processions appeal 
in varying degree to all classes. Even those who have no 
well-established religious feeling seem to take a certain 
measure of delight in the splendour of what they have come 
to regard as the outward and visible sign of the wealth and 
importance of the National Church. The devout look upon 
Church Festivals with a certain quickening of their sense of 
patriotism. 

Church and State being so closely united in Spain, an 
added splendour is often given to processions by the presence 
of the Spanish soldiery in bright uniforms, and it may well 
be that the ruling powers have a distinct political motive in 
displaying to a public, that tends in many parts of Spain to 
become irreligious, the strength of the forces that they must 
combat. In the conflict that the twentieth century must 
witness quarter will neither be asked nor granted, and when 
occasion arises to put an enemy of Mother Church out of 
the way, his place will know him no more. The murder of 
Sefior Ferrer last year was eloquent testimony to this truth. 
The Spaniard is too keen an observer of the currents of his 

6i 



62 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

own national life to permit the significance of the union of 
Church and State to escape him, though of course his gay 
and irresponsible temperament may not allow the lesson to 
be very lasting. As a rule Church processions are associated 
with the^m^^ and here again the wisdom of Mother Church 
is manifest. She has chosen to relate her special functions 
to all the great occasions of the Spaniard's life, and to take 
her place by his side at times of joy as well as at seasons of 
sorrow, even although her presence be unsought. 

Before entering into the details of any procession, it is per- 
haps best to indicate the seasons in which the chief ones take 
place, and give a list of the chief Spanish holidays. 

The New Year (Afio Nuevo) is not associated with any re- 
ligious festivity, but friends exchange cards and presents : 
the spirit of good-fellowship, which seems to have taken up 
its permanent abode in Spain, is very much in evidence, and 
the shops make a brave show. 

The approach to Lent is marked by the Carnival, which 
is greeted no less heartily in Spain by all classes of the 
population than it is in every other Roman Catholic country. 
Perhaps of all the cities that celebrate Carnival, Madrid and 
Valencia may be said to treat the occasion most effectively. 
In Valencia, the city of orange groves, the wonderful trees are 
a-flower when Carnival comes round, and the fete des fleurs 
presents scenes of indescribable beauty. A spirit of youth 
settles upon the city while Carnival rules, everybody is young, 
and if there be a trouble in the world it hides carefully from 
sight. Not only are the people joyful, but the happiness of 
every man, woman, and child seems to depend upon the 
happiness of everybody else, and he is best pleased who can 
make others happy. Carnival lasts three days, and one of 
the quaintest customs associated with it in Madrid is the 
" Burial of the Sardine " (enterrando la sardind), the subject 



CHURCH FESTIVALS 63 

of one of Goya's famous cartoons. In old times the sar- 
dine, which must play such an important part on the table 
during Lent, was solemnly interred, and the sorrow of the 
burial was drowned in drink. Nowadays the burial is for- 
gotten, but the sorrow is kept away in the old familiar 
fashion. Only in Lent need the Spaniard fast on Fridays, 
for in response to the intercession of an old-time Cardinal 
Archbishop of Toledo, one of the Popes was graciously 
pleased to grant all Spain a dispensation against Friday fast- 
ing. Some of the very devout still prefer to keep on the 
safe side, but the majority are quite content to accept the 
papal assurance that they need not trouble themselves. Mi- 
Careme is unknown in Spain. 

Palm Sunday is specially associated with confirmation, 
and white-robed children are seen everywhere. On Palm 
Sunday, too, the priest blesses the palm leaves that are to 
be fixed for a twelvemonth to the balconies and rejas of 
the house. Among the lower classes the ramo santo is be- 
lieved to act as a lightning-conductor, but its full efficacy in 
this direction has apparently been overlooked by the scientific 
world. Perhaps now their attention is called to it they will 
investigate the matter carefully, for even granting that the 
less orthodox conductor serves its purpose very well, the fact 
remains that the dried leaves of the palm never quite suc- 
ceed in losing their beauty, and the average lightning-con- 
ductor of these islands is a poor thing to look upon. 

Following Palm Sunday comes the great religious occa- 
sion of the Spanish year — Easter. Holy Week is a time of 
mourning in Spain, a season of abstention from the joys of 
life. Early on the Thursday morning before Good Friday 
shops are shut ; it is impossible to buy meat during the 
next three days. Theatres are closed ; the houses of public 
entertainment receive their patrons only at stated hours. 



64 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

Gloom clothes the city. During Thursday afternoon and 
on Good Friday, between the hours of twelve and three, the 
recollection of the tragedy consummated in Palestine nearly 
two thousand years ago seems to weigh heavily on every 
living thing. The stranger finds himself in a city of the 
dead, traffic is suspended in the streets ; the few carriages 
that pass are those of the doctor and the priest. In the 
churches the altars are shrouded in black, and from the bel- 
fries the carillon echoes through the city in strangely 
muffled tones. 

On Easter Sunday (Domingo de Gloria) the city wakes 
to a new mood. Joy has taken the place of sadness. 
Where mourning prevailed gaiety rules. The old national 
costumes — rich lace, black mantillas, and black silk dresses — 
were worn by the ladies of the upper classes on Maundy 
Thursday and Good Friday. For once the French " toques " 
had disappeared ; the mantilla resumed its beautiful and 
lawful sway, and the spirit of the city was the spirit of old 
Spain. Easter Sunday changes all that ; the women resume 
their wonted modern finery. Under a cloudless sky, to the 
sound of bells, the city moves joyfully in pursuit of relaxa- 
tion. Cafes and theatres open their doors and the day in- 
vades the domain of night, and night responds with a 
counter-invasion. In the afternoon the corrida de toros is 
thronged and packed to witness the first formal bull-fight of 
the season ; the most illustrious matadors available lead 
their cuadrillas into the arena ; the taste for blood is catered 
for lavishly ; it may be that upwards of twenty horses and 
six bulls will be done to death. 

Following Easter-time comes the Dos de Mayo, a festival 
dating from the time of the French invasion in 1808 and 
also recorded by Goya. The spirit of regionalism prevailing 
throughout all Spain does something to diminish the popu- 



CHURCH FESTIVALS 65 

larity of this' llbliday, for the • massacre it commemorates 
occurred in Madrid, and every good Spaniard outside the 
Castiles wants to know why nothing more important than 
a mere happening in Madrid should justify a public holiday. 
If massacre had been universal so that every city and village 
had suffered, he would welcome the holiday with a far better 
grace, and doubtless had Napoleon's legionaries understood 
the proper spirit of the country they were endeavouring to 
subjugate, they would have done their best to make the 
holiday more popular. 

Following the Dos de Mayo comes the great early summer 
feast of the Corpus Christi. This is celebrated all over 
Spain, but the traveller who wishes to see the most elab- 
orate ceremonial should go to Toledo, where the feast of 
the Corpus Christi is associated with the annual feria. At 
this time of the year the famous Toledo apricots, with their 
sweet kernel, are newly ripe, and to the lover of fine fruit 
they are worth the journey to Toledo from any part of 
Spain. 

All Saints' Day (Todos los Santos), on which the Spaniards 
visit the graves of their relatives, is the next great festival, 
and comes with the fall of the year ; but between Corpus 
Christi and Todos los Santos there are many provincial 
celebrations that have a national character, such as the day 
of Santiago, celebrated in Galicia, the day of San Lorenzo 
in the Escorial, of the Virgin of the Pilar in Saragossa, and 
the day of Dolores in Sevilla, as well as the feast days of 
the Ascension, the Assumption, and other Catholic calendar 
festivities. 

Christmas Eve (Noche Buena) and Christmas Day 

(Navidad) are the final public holidays of the year. 

Booths are set up in many of the cities and villages and 

lighted at night by flaming naphtha lamps, around which 

5 



66 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

the populace congregates as readily as the moths, but with 
less fatal effect, until the small hours crawl up. Nougat 
{turron) is the special sweet associated with this occasion. 
The Christmas tree has no place in Spain, but the occasion 
IS celebrated on behalf of the children by navidades — card- 
board or plaster representations of a landscape supposed to 
be Bethlehem, with certain figures that represent the Holy 
Family and the donkey upon which the Infant Christ is said 
to have been carried out of Herod's reach. Some of these 
toys can be bought for the equivalent of a few pence, while 
others, far more ornate and carefully made, command quite 
a high price. It may be remarked in this place that the 
Spanish child is most fortunate in the matter of toys. Toy 
shops exist in abundance, and the prices at which the various 
trifles are sold are ridiculously low, so that the poorest 
child can rely upon a well-stocked nursery, and the Spaniard 
has learned to understand that most children care more for 
quantity than quality, and would rather have a dozen toys 
that cost half a crown than one that cost ten shillings, as 
the breaking of the expensive plaything would be regarded 
seriously. The itinerant toy dealer is quite a familiar figure 
in Spanish parks and gardens, and if the truth is to be told 
without fear, let it be whispered that the father of the family 
may be seen upon occasion joining his children at their 
games with a measure of interest and enthusiasm that is 
quite open and unashamed. He is pleased to remember the 
days of his youth. Perhaps he remembers Agesilaus the 
Spartan who, caught " playing at horses " with his children 
by a young man, said, " Tell no one until you are a father 
yourself". 

Shops assume their brightest aspect on the occasion of 
Noche Buena, and one of their chief exhibits is the Christmas 
hamper — an open basket, profusely beribboned and holding 



CHURCH FESTIVALS 67 

a splendid ham — probably from some lusty porker that 
lived a purely idyllic life among the acorns that autumn 
strewed with such profusion across his path — sausages into 
whose mysteries no wise man pries, potted meats that 
have for the most part been imported from abroad, a bottle 
or two of fine old wine or sherry, potted fruit from 
Aragon, some game and some sweets. Perhaps the hamper 
may even boast one of the splendid turkeys that the country 
folk drive in flocks through the city streets, to sell to passers- 
by or to housewives on the doorstep. If it were not for 
fear of making Englishmen envious, one would not conceal 
the fact that a really beautiful bird in splendid condition can 
be bought in the streets of a Spanish city {or five shillings. 
Think of that, good English housewives, whose turkey, no 
better in flavour and hardly heavier, has been reckoned 
cheap at twenty-five, and gather from the comparison some 
hint of the difference between the cost of food in England 
and Spain. Remember, too, that the consumos or food duties 
in Spain are high. 

The hampers to which reference has been made are 
given very freely by the wealthy to those whose financial 
circumstances are straitened, and are of course specially re- 
served for families whose share of the good things of life is 
known to be small The Christmas gifts do not end here. 
The struggling clerk, and even the well-salaried manager of 
a wealthy house, may rely upon receiving a substantial 
Christmas gift, indeed, it is quite common to hear of the 
former receiving a full month's salary as a Christmas box. 
This is the more useful to him because he in his turn is 
preyed upon by every man who performs, or is merely paid 
to perform, small public services. The lamplighter, the 
scavenger, the tradesman's assistant (who as often as not 
brings round a present from the tradesman), the postman 



68 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

who has delivered some of your letters and lost the rest, the 
telegraph boy who has brought you one or two wires which 
the operator in a distant city sent by post in order that he 
might pocket the fee, the newspaper boy, the beggar whom 
in a moment of benevolence you have patronized — one and 
all are on your doorstep to share your Christmas joy and 
emoluments, and it is only the generosity of the rich to the 
lower middle classes which enables the heavy load of impo- 
sition to be borne, though, let it be said, that while the 
Spaniard has he will give. His generosity is proverbial. 

The Spanish holidays have now been passed in very 
brief review, and it becomes possible to turn from general 
consideration to the details of some of the great processions 
associated with the Church, for they cannot be passed over 
lightly in any attempt to picture the ceremonial side of 
Spanish life. In this country we have, alas, nothing 
worth mentioning. Only in the past year or two have the 
ancient glories of the pageant been revived in our midst. 
Spain, on the other hand, has never lacked her pageants, not 
only in historic cities like Sevilla and Valencia, but in re- 
mote villages where they can only be arranged by the aid 
of some personal sacrifice, however small, on the part of 
those who assist. A Spain without pageant is unthinkable, 
and not a little of the spirit of contentment and mirth that 
thrives in the sorely tried country is due to the interesting 
processions which play a great part in preserving the regional 
spirit of the country. Many a custom that might be for- 
gotten, many a costume that has long passed from regular 
use, is kept alive by the pageant, and though much of the 
picturesque aspect of Spanish life has passed away, those 
who wish to realize what it was like in the times when 
Spain was a great world-empire, can find all the material 
they need by travelling from one Church pageant to another, 



CHURCH FESTIVALS 69 

entering into the spirit which pervades it, and seeking for 
information from those who have made a life-study of the 
special institutions of their province. 

Who having been in Sevilla during Holy Week (Semana 
Santa) will ever forget the experience? The writer has 
spent Easter in many cities, Florence, Rome, Jerusalem, but 
the memory of Semana Santa in Sevilla has mastered other 
memories, as the serpent of Aaron is said to have mastered 
the serpents of the magicians at the court of the Egyptian 
king. For the spring comes in happiest guise to Andalusia, 
summoning flowers innumerable to the field and blossoms 
in varied profusion to the orchards. Birds sing in the air 
and cigarrons from the high tree-tops, while in the marshes 
of the Guadalquivir the bull-frogs add their croaking 
chorus to the melody of day and night. Is there any 
night in the Andalusian spring? The question is not 
readily answered, for before the simple pleasures of the 
evening have passed away the east is reddening and an- 
other day full of the joy of sunshine has returned. Time 
is a thing of no account, and no wise man pauses to count 
the hours that lead him in dancing rhythm along the flower- 
strewn road of life. There is some subtle quality in the 
air itself that stimulates like the golden manzanilla in the 
tiny glasses {copitas) that seem ever to lie within his reach. 
There is a perennial sense of fragrance born in the river-side 
garden to perfume the air until the white city lies quivering 
in the ardent embrace of full-blown spring. Everybody is 
gay, from the beggar in his rags on the sunny pavement 
by cathedral or Caridad, through the ranks of those who 
surrender their lives to the leisure of club and caf6 on 
the Sierpes, up to the old nobility, whose mansions, gloomy 
though they may be at first sight, yield exquisite glimpses 
of fountained patios ablaze with brilliant flowers. He who 



70 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

cannot be happy in the Andalusian spring must surely 
bear the weight of a sorrow for which the world itself holds 
no anodyne. With the approach of Semana Santa, the 
city of Saints Justina and Rustina, the amiable ladies for 
whose portraits Goya employed two courtesans to sit, wakes 
to a sudden access of feverish life. Such little business as 
holds the city at other times is forgotten now. The talk 
is all of processions and pageants and the coming feria in 
the Campo de San Fernando. Visitors flock to Sevilla from 
all the touring quarters of civilization, and the worthy 
managers of hotels stretch their accommodation beyond all 
reasonable limit and try to lift their scale of charges as 
high as the golden Virgin of the Giralda Tower. As the 
great days approach the city seems to don the garment of 
festivity. Is it imagination, or did the streets never seem 
so gay, the white walls never so bright, the flowers on the 
balconies never so fresh? Young and old, rich and poor, 
sick and sound, are united in paying the homage of glad- 
ness to a great occasion ; all enjoy to the full the gifts that 
the city spreads before them. 

Suddenly, in the midst of these preparations, the Holy 
Days arrive, and for a little while the city lays aside its high 
spirits. Just as in old days when the Roman Emperors 
triumphed through the streets of the world's greatest city, 
amidst scenes whose splendour our century cannot match, 
there was one in attendance on the imperial car whose duty 
it was to remind Imperial Csesar that he too must die, so 
the Church seizes the occasion of a city's exuberant mirth 
to sound its solemn warning in every ear. Merriment is 
hushed, and along streets in which all regular traffic is 
suspended, religious processions, full of the suggestion of 
pain and mourning, pass through the awe-struck crowd, 
bearing aloft reminders, terrible in their realism, of the 



CHURCH FESTIVALS 71 

Tragedy of Calvary. In the cathedral, whose perennial 
gloom is deepened by shrouded altars and solemn candle- 
light, the Archbishop of Sevilla, clad in his simplest vest- 
ments, and attended by a host of dignitaries of the Church, 
celebrates High Mass. Ceremonial and costume seem to 
belong to another world, another century, an earlier stage 
in the development of the human mind. Fasting and prayer 
and penitence are in evidence on every side ; it is with a 
sense akin to wonder that the traveller sees the sun still 
shining, hears the birds still singing, and realizes that Nature 
has refused to play her part in the fantastic pageantry that 
holds the city in a vice. Maundy Thursday passes, Good 
Friday brings deepening depression in its train and sees the 
startled tourist wandering uncomfortably about the streets 
in which, as he is fully conscious, he plays no more than a 
ridiculous part. He is in the city but not of it — a heretic 
whose sentence is pronounced by the thousands who pass 
him without comment, without notice. Holy Saturday 
does no more than intensify his loneliness. He can do 
no more than stand with bared head as the processions 
move by, and feel glad that he has not been conducted to 
the city gates and thrust beyond them as an alien and an 
undesirable. And on the Sunday he awakes to a new 
world. Had he been about on the Saturday night he 
would have known before retiring that the hour of change 
had struck, but in all probability he did not dare to venture 
into the streets. 

Those who keep bees know that, for a little time before 
the swarm leaves the hive, the abode of honey is a place of 
anxiety and of silence. Then on a sudden the swarm leaves 
the hive, the air is full of music, as thousands of workers 
claim the only holiday of their lives. Sevilla is a bee-hive 
in Holy Week and gives up its swarm on Easter Sunday 



72 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

when one and all fill the streets, the sense of unrest and 
gloom forgotten, the appetite for enjoyment kindled by the 
three days of abstinence. In the Campo, where the feria is 
held, it is difficult to force a passage. Every figure that 
plays its part in Spanish country-life, each amusement 
that the Spaniard loves, every dainty in which he indulges, 
is spread before him. A city of many thousand souls is 
making holiday in fashion only possible to those fortunate 
people in whose life sunshine is partner throughout the 
year. Even the tourist forgets his troubles, while rank and 
file of those who make profit out of the feria endeavour to 
prove to him that he need not stay in his hotel to be robbed. 
If he be a man of blood he may see a score or so of horses 
disembowelled and half a dozen bulls killed in the arena 
under the Giralda's shadow, or the Arrebola will supply him 
with the miniature bloodshed of the cockpit, while if he be 
a man of peace \h^ feria will hold him long into the night, 
and should he wish to sup he can seek one of the ventas 
along the Guadalquivir road and hire a minstrel or two to 
sing him songs of Spain to the accompaniment of a guitar. 
He can see real Spanish dancing, either in the Campo de San 
Fernando or in the Triana across the river where the gipsies 
live, or in one of the cafes in or round the Sierpes, while at 
the big hotels the gentlemen of dubious professions, who, 
with a fine regard for euphemism call themselves guides, 
will provide an entertainment to which they give the title 
of Spanish dancing, though costume and movements are as 
far removed from the real thing as a mule is from a thorough- 
bred Arab. Should he desire entertainment of another sort 
there will be zarzuelas (musical comedies) at more than one 
theatre, and though he cannot hope to enjoy the good 
points so frequently made unless he chance to know some- 
thing of Spain in its manifold regional aspect, he will at 




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CHURCH FESTIVALS n 

least hear pretty music and see delightful costumes. The 
religious spirit, if one may be truly said to have existed in 
the three doleful days that have passed, is entirely forgotten. 
Mother Church has retired within her boundaries ; her altars 
are out of mourning, the ghastly dummies of her procession 
are gone into hiding with the hideous masks that covered 
their attendants, and the only suggestion of a religious 
Spain is to be found in the grounds oi\}s\^feria where count- 
less plaster images of saints and virgins find a ready sale. 

Although Holy Week has its fixed limits in the diary of 
the ecclesiastical authorities, its spirit lingers a little beyond 
the appointed time in the city itself. Hotel proprietors, 
restaurant keepers, and shop managers will not lightly leave 
their golden harvest. The city is full of strangers ; these 
strangers are absurdly wealthy or they would not have come 
to the city ; it is necessary then to see that they pay 
appropriately for their privilege, and on this account Semana 
Santa prices persist, and until the tourist is tired of yielding 
to them there is no return to ordinary market conditions. 
The feria persists for a full fifteen days, starting on the 
Sunday before Easter and only beginning to pass when the 
last day of Semana Santa is a week old. Even then the 
break up is but a gradual affair, and is limited very largely 
to the section that has sold its wares or has engagements to 
keep in another part of the country. The roundabout, 
known by the curious title of tio vivo (lively uncle), is work- 
ing just as long as it can command a sufficient number of 
paying guests, while the stalls which supply food-stuffs that 
can be bought in the city linger in the immediate neighbour- 
hood of the " lively uncle ". Gipsies and horse-coupers are 
also very persistent, for the great Romany family has its 
head-quarters near at hand, and numbers among its ranks 
some of the cleverest horse-thieves and horse-coupers in 



74 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

Europe. After the first fortnight the feria prices suffer a 
considerable decline, and many poorer visitors arrive to take 
advantage of the reduction, as people in England go to a 
flower show or bazaar on the last day. Surely the hope of 
bargains springs eternal in the human breast. 

It must not be supposed that Sevilla has relied exclusively 
upon foreign patronage during the Semana Santa. Wealthy 
Englishmen and Germans have been very much in evidence, 
and a certain number of Americans have returned to their 
old home to find memories of the Spanish-American War 
quite obliterated among those who are in business, and know 
that the American on holiday does not count his change. 
But during its Holy Week, and the week following, nearly 
every great Spanish centre has sent its hundreds to the city 
from all points of the compass. The tren botijo with its 
liberal garnish of water-bottles and its indescribable odours 
of food at blood-heat, has crawled daily and nightly into 
one or other of the terminus stations, and a huge crowd of 
pleasure-seekers drawn from the lower orders has hunted 
cheerfully through the poor quarters of the city for such 
cheap lodging as it may chance to afford. They are not 
entirely on pleasure bent, these new-comers ; some of them 
have arrived with the fullest intention of growing rich in a 
hurry ; a few are likely to make the intimate acquaintance 
of the town's carcel which would hardly accommodate all 
who deserved to enjoy its rigorous hospitality. But when 
the worst has been said it may be doubted whether Holy 
Week in Sevilla brings together as unsavoury a crowd as 
the average English race-course can show, and considering 
the size of the mixed multitude that invades the city, crimes 
against the person are singularly few. The last Spanish 
brigand died years ago ; his descendant keeps an h8tel or 
posada or serves the railways as a ticket inspector. 



CHURCH FESTIVALS 75 

One charming custom associated only with the Andalusian 
feria must not be forgotten, and that is, the custom among 
the upper classes of having their own tent at \}s\q feria and 
entertaining friends there. A certain part of the Campo 
de San Fernando is railed off for the convenience of these 
tiendas and the most charming hospitality, often of the al- 
fresco kind, is practised there. Needless to say the grandees 
bring their own liveried servants and entertain en prince^ 
while the splendour of the costumes worn by the ladies in 
the enclosure recalls, though it does not rival, the scenes at 
Ascot and Goodwood. Seville has one notable advantage 
over the English resorts named, the weather in Southern 
Spain at Easter-tide is certain to be fine ; you can arrange 
to hold picnics on any day in April with the full knowledge 
that the sun will shine upon your gaiety. 



CHAPTER VII 

THE HIERARCHY OF THE CHURCH 

WE have considered the position that the Church holds 
in Spain from the point of view of the man who 
feels its influence, and now it is time to consider the Church 
itself and those who minister to its service, from his Grace 
the Cardinal Archbishop of Toledo, Primate of all the 
Spains, down to the unwashed and seldom-shorn parish 
priest who combines a little poaching and an occasional 
convivial evening with ministration to erring souls, and, 
whatever his faults, is often a cheerful companion and good 
friend. 

Just as Madrid is Spain*s chief political centre, so the 
picturesque city of Toledo is the ecclesiastical head-quarters 
of the country, though as it is within a short journey of the 
capital where the Papal Nuncio is stationed it is not easy to 
say where the various decrees of Mother Church are formu- 
lated. A tren correo can cover the distance between the two 
cities in a couple of hours. There are nine Archbishoprics 
in Spain, and each archbishop is responsible only to Rome 
and to the Minister of Grace and Justice in Madrid. Nomin- 
ally the Government appoints to the archbishoprics; in 
reality the Papal Nuncio has a very large voice in the selec- 
tion ; the Vatican and the Palacio Real work hand in glove, 
knowing they stand together. Among the cities that have 
archbishops are Toledo, Valencia, Saragossa, Valladolid, 

76 



THE HIERARCHY OF THE CHURCH ^^ 

Granada, Sevilla, and Santiago. The districts that come 
under the archiepiscopal jurisdiction are divided up into 
bishoprics on certain lines that are rather irregular ; they do 
not appear to be founded upon latter day conditions at all. 
We find bishops whose diocese has a very small and scattered 
population, while Madrid, with its half million or more inhabi- 
tants, shares a bishop with Alcala de Henares. It may be 
when these bishoprics were established for the first time they 
were established to commemorate the capture of certain cities 
from the Moor, while others may and probably do owe their 
creation to the desire of some high authority to establish a 
sinecure for a friend. The foundation of the Alcala de 
Henares bishopric, for example, was due, not to the spiritual 
needs of the district, but to the fact that a certain Archbishop 
of Toledo did not care to prolong his residence in such a 
gloomy city while a very pleasant corner of the earth, as 
Alcala undoubtedly is, called so loudly to a man of means 
and good taste to set up a palace there. So he built him- 
self a stately home and the bishopric was established to 
justify it. Avila and Segovia, on the other hand, are un- 
deniable examples of bishoprics established to commemorate 
victories over the Moors, and there was a time when they 
were of the first importance. 

When we leave the august company of the bishops the de- 
scent in the scale is rapid. We pass at once to suffragan 
bishops who are merely workers and consequently have 
little time to associate themselves with the pomp and cir- 
cumstance of their superiors, and then we reach the vicar 
whose jurisdiction corresponds with that of a dean in this 
country. Nor must the title of vicar be confused with that 
of the vicario general^ which is borne by the dreaded head 
of the Jesuits in Spain. Thereafter we come without delay 
to the parish priest. He is one of two classes, the first of 



78 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

these being very numerous, the second comparatively rare. 
The representative of the former is the drudge, who con- 
trives, perhaps through no fault of his own, to make his work 
doubly unsatisfactory to those who start out with a poor 
equipment of faith. He is illiterate, cleanliness is not pro- 
minent among his virtues, he is superstitious, and when 
worsted in argument will fall back upon his claim to Divine 
authority. The other type corresponds in some measure to 
the cacique in politics ; he is restless, energetic, eloquent, per- 
suasive ; men regard him with favour, for they declare that 
he is one after their own hearts ; a man of the world, tolerant 
in spite of the clothes he wears. The women are devoted 
to him ; one feels that some of them find consolation for little 
faults in the thought that their lapses from grace justify con- 
fession, and that Padre So-and-So will confess them. They 
do not know him as a man of the world, for they see quite a 
different facet in the well-cut jewel of his personality ; they 
know him for a man whose eyes are fixed upon heaven, 
whose lips are devoted to prayer and good counsel. When 
he preaches there is a crowd of women to hear him, so large 
a crowd indeed that he seems to be a serious rival of some 
of London's popular preachers who would address a beggarly 
array of empty benches but for that softer sex upon whose 
softness Sam Weller's father commented so severely. But 
it suffices this cacique of the ecclesiasts to secure the patron- 
age of the women, for they rule the men, and the men sup- 
port the Church. The progress of the successful priest is 
watched carefully from above; there is little slackness in 
the ranks of those who actually administer the Church in 
Spain, and when he has justified himself translation and pro- 
motion will reward him. It may be pointed out here that 
ecclesiastical administration in Spain is and always has 
been conducted on a sounder and more business-like basis 



THE HIERARCHY OF THE CHURCH 79 

than political administration. To be sure, some of the 
purely decorative appointments are given for political pur- 
poses only. There are bishops and archbishops too in the 
hierarchy of ecclesiastical Spain of whom the best that can 
be said is that they do no harm. They lack executive 
ability and political sagacity, but the need for such qualities 
in the area of their administration is not overlooked, and 
some hard-working suffragan will see to it that all the aims 
and intentions of the Church are pursued, although His 
Grace may be more concerned with the appointment of his 
table than with anything else. From time to time in the 
past few decades serious attempts have been made by politi- 
cal parties to enforce laws against the Church and to deprive 
her of the enormous treasure she has accumulated. In the 
brief days of the Republic the Church suffered heavily, per- 
haps more heavily than in the days of the Napoleonic in- 
vasion, but the anti-clericals are by no means satisfied, as 
one of them said to the writer a few years ago in Madrid : 
'^Salmeron did no more than tap the big barrel of the 
Church's wealth ; some day we will turn that tap on ; there's 
enough rich wine for every Spaniard to slake his thirst ". 
The opponents of the Church exaggerate its wealth, but the 
fact remains that the wealth is enormous ; the Spanish Church 
is rich beyond the dreams of a layman's avarice. 

On the other hand, most of those who have travelled in 
the immediate neighbourhood of a bishop's or archbishop's 
palace will find, and will in fairness acknowledge, that the 
great ecclesiastical authorities are popular with a large pro- 
portion of the masses. Even if they be as immensely 
wealthy as their enemies say, it must be confessed that they 
do good work in relieving the poor, and in country districts, 
where some high Church official has his palace, the neigh- 
bourhood is en fete when it is open for the season and full 



8o HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

of regrets when its ecclesiastical chief returns to the leading 
city in his diocese. The same condition obtains in this 
country in the neighbourhood of big estates. Only a few 
years ago when the late Sefior Sagasta was contemplating 
a movement against the Church — though he probably knew 
well that it Would never travel beyond the stage of discus- 
sion — there was some talk of reducing episcopal establish- 
ments. But it was soon apparent that such a measure 
would create very great hostility to the Government, and the 
reform was dropped. Probably Sagasta, who had concluded 
an important secret agreement with the Carlist party in 
favour of the Church some years before, fostered the opposi- 
tion while proposing the change. 

The Church exists in Spain, less on account of the spirit- 
ual needs of the people than because of the exquisite art and 
consummate tact with which it wields authority at Court. 
If the Royal House of Spain were anxious to despoil the 
Church, there is no power to hinder it from doing so. But 
there is no question of spoliation. Not only is the Church 
allowed to keep her rich territory, but this is supplemented 
on every possible occasion. History tells us how this wealth 
came. The Republic in its short career cut down her 
landed interests very considerably, but only the least part of 
the Church's wealth is in land. Emperors, kings, conquista- 
dores, men who have returned home with fabulous fortunes 
acquired in the New World, prosperous caciques at the point 
of death with the well-earned terror of hell before them, and 
no further personal need for their fortunes — one and all have 
yielded heavy tribute to the Church that claims to be 
eternal. No published record of these testamentary disposi- 
tions exists ; they are known only to the Church. Much 
of the wealth is of course visible to the public for it is re- 
presented by jewels of fabulous value upon the effigies of the 



THE HIERARCHY OF THE CHURCH 8i 

Madonnas. In all the great cathedrals and in many of the 
smaller churches, such as the Pilar at Saragossa, there are 
figures of the Virgin whose jewels are worth a king's ransom. 
Those in Toledo are second to none in Spain, though Sevilla 
boasts the wonderful emerald that is said to light the chapel 
in which it is placed. Unfortunately the writer has never 
been able to be present when the emerald was exercising its 
proper function. Perhaps it would not shine for one whose 
ancestors were expelled from Spain. 

When any event of great national importance takes place, 
suitable tribute is paid to the Church. During King 
Alfonso's first visit to Paris he had the good luck to es- 
cape from the attentions of a gentleman who sought to 
emphasize certain objections to the principle of kingship 
by throwing a bomb. When the news reached Spain the 
Queen Mother immediately presented the Virgin of Carmen 
with a new and costly mantle, and naturally the great ladies 
of Madrid could do no less than copy the Queen Mother's 
example and see that the other Virgins of Madrid were 
not slighted. For who can say whether it was the Virgin, 
or Our Lady of Las Palomas, or la Santisima Virgen de 
Atocha that had kept the bomb from exploding ? Perhaps 
in point of fact it was none of these but merely some saint 
who guards folk from picric acid. This is a nice question 
and delicate ; let us be content to record the fact that every 
Virgin was duly decorated — to the very considerable benefit 
of the Church and to the benefit of certain effigies that need no 
little dressing up to make them look unlike ill-made dolls. 

Turning back for a moment to the various types of 
Churchmen, the private confessor must not be overlooked. 
If you chance to be a grandee of Spain, with blood as blue 
as the heavens, and whose pedigree is of extraordinary 
length, no common confessor can be privileged to receive 
6 



82 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

the tidings of your distinguished sins. The grandee has 
his own confessor — it may happen in the case of a very 
grand grandee indeed, that he has one confessor and his 
wife another, and among the confessors of the aristocracy 
it will be found that the most are Jesuits. The political 
significance of this need hardly be insisted upon. There is 
no aspect of family life upon which the Jesuit is not com- 
petent and eager to advise. It may be said that through 
his society the great Vicario General of the Jesuits has 
all the secret history of Spain before him, and that no man 
in this world is better cognisant of the fact that knowledge 
is power. Not one man in a thousand outside Spain 
knows the name of the Vicario General, but his power is 
felt by millions. He is the most dramatic and sinister 
figure in Europe to-day. 

Perhaps the chief danger to the Church in Spain arises 
from what the Spaniard calls latifundio — the single word 
expressing the unequal division of wealth. It is said of 
the late Lord Salisbury that while he was travelling in 
Andalusia he was astonished by the enormous size of the 
estates of some of the old nobility, and remarked, near the 
boundary-stones of one of the largest haciendas, " This is 
where the next revolution in Spain will break out ". The 
place was desolate enough in all conscience ; save for the 
statesman and his friends there was not a soul in sight, but 
the utterance was not the less true though the revolution 
may come quite peacefully and on account of causes that 
could not be foreseen at the time, and are not too clear even 
to-day. The latifundio extends from State to Church, or 
perhaps it would be more accurate to say from Church to 
State. The men at the head of the Church in Spain have 
enormous wealth; the parish priest must sometimes take 
his gun on to his neighbour's land in order to fill the pot and 



THE HIERARCHY OF THE CHURCH 83 

borrow wood from the State forests to keep his fire burning. 
Between the wealth of the Church and the wealth of the 
aristocracy there is a curious similarity in Spain which has 
seldom been pointed out. The Spanish grandee likes to 
have his wealth in bullion, and keeps it in the vaults of a 
bank. Unless he be under the influence of the Jesuits, 
whose organization has extensive commercial ramifications, 
he will not invest his money save in a Government loan. 
When a loan was issued for naval purposes in the year 
1908, the three million pounds applied for was subscribed 
three times over in one day in Madrid alone. The money, 
belonging for the most part, if not altogether, to the 
grandees, was lying in the bank, useless to the country at 
large, yielding no more than such interest as is paid on 
deposit accounts, and worth comparatively little to its 
possessors, whose wealth increases more rapidly than it can 
be spent. In similar fashion the great wealth of the Church 
is idle. It is represented by jewels and jewelled vestments 
to the value of many millions that lie in the strong rooms 
of some cathedral and on the altars of others. There is 
sufficient unproductive riches to give all Spain a fair measure 
of education, to pay the national debt, to endow universities 
that stand sadly in need of funds, and to develop agriculture 
to a point that would raise the Spanish peasant to compara- 
tive affluence. On the other hand, the parish church is 
as poor as the cathedral is rich. Whitewash is the only 
decoration that it does not lack, and some of this cries out 
for renewal, to the intense regret of the poor and devout few 
whose faith is from the heart. 

Happily the salt of humour that does so much to save a 
life in many parts of Spain keeps the cura rural contented. 
In the north he is a gloomy fellow enough, imbued with 
something of the spirit of the Inquisition. The great 



84 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

enemy of heretics, superstitious and often brutal, he is a man 
who may excite fear but never affection. This description 
applies best to the rural of Galicia, Navarre, and the Basque 
Provinces ; in the centre of Spain humour begins to assert 
itself, and in the south it colours life. There the rural is 
often a man who would claim our affection if he practised 
the rites of the Druids or the forms of worship that obtain 
among the natives of West Africa. So long as the parish 
priest can keep his pot boiling and his bota filled, in some 
sunny, happy village where the requirements of the inhabi- 
tants are almost as simple as their resources, and can get 
a few days' sport under the rose and live in peace with 
his housekeeper, he proceeds quite happily along the rough 
road from the eternity of the unborn to the eternity of the 
dead. He knows well enough that his parishioners will 
turn a lenient eye upon his pecadillos and rather accept 
them as a proof that he is hombre como cualquier otro (the 
same as any other man). To insure this immunity from 
censure he has only to accept convention, tradition, and 
local superstitions, and leave politics severely alone. If 
he be a politician let him for his own sake be a Conservative. 
Sometimes he is a business man and does not hesitate to 
turn natural phenomena to a good use. Only a few years 
ago there was a rather well-informed priest in the province 
of Leon who knew that an eclipse of the sun was imminent. 
His congregation was a little remiss in handing over the 
necessary dues to Mother Church, and the good priest took 
occasion some weeks before the eclipse roundly to denounce 
the backslidings of his flock. He warned them to bring a 
considerable peace-offering if they wished to avert the wrath 
of heaven, and his congregation, being better equipped 
with humour than faith, gave him a respectful hearing but 
no tribute. Thereupon the padre reinforced his tale of 



THE HIERARCHY OF THE CHURCH 85 

disaster and waited for Providence to justify him. The 
eclipse brought terror upon the village. Never in the 
history of the Church were such ample stores of corn, 
wine and oil offered by remorseful penitents. As the 
padre's pockets filled and promises of permanent penitence 
rolled in, the heavy load of offerings touched his heart ; he 
promised to intercede with Providence, and his intercession 
was so successful that the sun resumed its normal sway and 
the wrath of Divine Power was averted. Since then the 
Church has boasted an added altar or two, and the priest, 
from being a spare man whose ribs could have been counted, 
had decency permitted, has waxed as fat as Jeshurun of old. 
Since those days the worthy priest's barrel of meal has not 
wasted, neither has his cruse of oil failed. The story has 
leaked out, but it has not reached the village wherein its 
hero is regarded with superstitious veneration. 

The best class of rural is the man of middle age, who 
having spent his ambitions in some other pursuit, and hav- 
ing a patron in high places, has taken the vows and entered 
upon the work of some delightful parish where he can live 
in ease for the rest of his life. A few years ago the con- 
ductor of one of the leading theatrical orchestras in Madrid 
tired of the rank perfume of the footlights. Pie had made 
friends and was able to take the vows and become a ruraL 
To-day he is the most popular man in his community, in- 
dispensable at picnic and fiesta^ welcome alike at christening, 
wedding, and house of mourning. His charming manners, 
good sense, and camaraderie endear him to men and women 
alike, and the village ranks him on a level with its patron 
saint. His sermons are extremely popular, for he speaks of 
the folly and vanity of life as one having knowledge, and not 
as the illiterate who discuss things with which they have no 
first-hand acquaintance. 



86 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

In the manufacturing districts where socialism and atheism 
have their strongest hold upon the populace, the rural has 
a bad time. Half-educated, ill-read, and deep in the mire 
of prejudice and superstition, he is the butt of those he is 
supposed to teach. Their jibes must be very hard to bear 
and often drive him to the ranks of those whose ignorance is 
as well developed as his own. If he be a devout man, that 
constant persecution to which he is subjected may have its 
spiritual consolations, but the fact remains that very few of 
the rurales are devout ; they have learned certain formulae 
in a perfunctory fashion without grasping their significance. 
It is right to add that of late years the Church has recognized 
the paramount claims of districts in which commercial pros- 
perity has produced spiritual revolt, and the best rurales in 
her service are delegated to Catalonia and the Asturias. 
Here they must submit to all the discipline of the Church 
— a discipline that is frequently relaxed in parts where 
the new spirit of unrest has yet to find a home. In the 
manufacturing cities the priest must always wear clerical 
garb when he goes out ; he must lay aside his cherished 
cigarette and conform to the smallest detail of established 
usage. There is a large class of better-educated men in the 
Asturias, Catalonia, and Valencia who would like to find a 
via media between atheism and retrograde ecclesiasticism, 
and they endeavour to bring such influence as they may 
upon Madrid to ensure the presence of enlightened Church- 
men at the head of affairs. They are not very successful. 
A few years ago, when Sefior Maura, the Mallorcan cacique 
who fell from power last autumn, was premier the first time, 
he sent a notorious reactionary to the Archbishopric of 
Valencia. The educated Valencians to a man refused to 
accept him, and Sefior Maura, who for all his many and 
notorious faults is one of the strongest men in Spain, declared 



THE HIERARCHY OF THE CHURCH 87 

that his nominee should go to his palace, if necessary at 
the point of the bayonet. The Valencians swore that if the 
archbishop came he should leave as did one of his great 
predecessors who was so pleased to quit Valencia that he is 
said to have removed his sandals and shaken out the city's 
dust as soon as he got outside the walls. 

All South-eastern Spain was in a ferment, for Sefior Maura 
is a strong, determined man, and the Valencians are a sturdy 
people, and folk were wondering what would happen when 
an irresistible force came into contact with an immovable 
body. To understand the spirit of Valencia and its extreme 
regionalism, it is only necessary to recall the fact that dur- 
ing the brief reign of the Republic two Valencian villages 
solemnly declared war upon one another, and it required the 
hard work of the stolid Guardia Civil to keep the declaration 
of war from being followed by active hostilities. The crisis 
was solved for the moment by Sefior Maura's first fall from 
power. The Liberals decided to leave Valencia severely 
alone, and the Province existed as best it could without an 
archbishop. Any lack of prosperity that may have been 
entailed by the loss is not recorded, but as soon as Sefior 
Maura returned to office his nominee went to Valencia. 
The will of the premier was the irresistible force, the body 
was not immovable. 

It will be seen that the Church in Spain must fight hard 
and without cessation of hostilities against forces that 
threaten upon every side, and are bound ultimately to pre- 
vail as education grows and the rank and file begin to think. 
It enjoys the traditional support of the ruling house and of 
the Government, but development, whether social or com- 
mercial, is a danger and must be checked whenever occasion 
offers. At the same time it is not politic to pose as the 
open foe of progress or to incense those who may change 



88 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

their mood from one of benevolent neutrality to active op- 
position. The whole position calls for a very clever diplo- 
macy, and Spain's ecclesiastical diplomats, whether they be- 
long to the ranks of the regular Church or to the splendidly 
organized Society of Jesus, are men competent to deal with 
any emergency. Each one is imbued with the spirit of re- 
sponsibility. Schism is unknown ; authority is undisputed. 
Even if people cannot think that the Church's work is for 
the ultimate good of humanity, they must admire the way in 
which, on its purely administrative side, it is carried on. All 
the intellectuals in the service of the Church work to a com- 
mon end with a measure of devotion and self-sacrifice that 
should be seen in the working to be properly appreciated. 
The State may be betrayed, political parties may be be- 
trayed, but the Church is never betrayed. Its ranks are al- 
ways closed, its weapons are always polished. Baffled it 
may be, but it is never beaten. The growth and brief blos- 
soming of Republicanism, the spread of socialism and atheism 
have served down to the present to make the Church stronger 
and more alert. Though it may seem to have surrendered 
some of the outposts in Eastern Spain to the enemy, that 
surrender is less real than apparent. For the work of re- 
covering them goes on by night and by day. Throughout 
countless miles of territory the Church's rule is paramount. 
It holds the Spanish Royal House, the aristocracy, and the 
Cabinet in the hollow of its hand. The great Carlist move- 
ment has become a pawn upon the board of its policy, and 
it has turned developments to its own signal advantage. 

It would be interesting to learn the ultimate ambition of 
the Church in Spain. For how long does it hope to control 
the destinies of the country? For how long will it keep in 
check the Liberal movement that the east has inaugurated ? 
This is the secret of the Church and will never be directly 



THE HIERARCHY OF THE CHURCH 89 

revealed. Those who prophesy from beyond Spain's borders 
have failed to take into consideration the added strength that 
regionalism confers upon the forces of the Church. If Spain 
could unite for any purpose, the latifundios would soon 
disappear. But Spain has never united in all her history to 
any greater extent than she did when the legions of the great 
Napoleon were overrunning her fertile territories, and even 
then the massacres that Goya has left on record in his 
terrible Dos de Mayo inspired less horror in the Peninsula 
than the sacking of the churches. So it is well to rest con- 
tent with recording facts and to leave prophecy to the un- 
erring eye and sound judgment of the tourist who, having 
spent a fortnight in Spain under the patronage of St. Thomas 
Cook, is qualified to write and speak for all time with un- 
questionable authority upon Spain and her political and 
religious problems. 



CHAPTER VIII 

THE THEATRE IN SPAIN 

THE stage has a certain growing importance in nearly 
every European country, and there are always en- 
thusiasts who believe that if the stage is subtracted from life, 
nothing worth consideration is left. It is the greater pleasure 
to find a country boasting a great national dramatic literature 
in which the drama pursues the even tenor of its way, 
touching social life at every point, remaining equally free 
from sensation and sensuality, thriving without problems of 
maintenance and support, and capable of offering those who 
write for it and those who act sufficient to sustain life com- 
fortably without superfluity. Spain's leading dramatists and 
leading actors have heads of normal size ; the one does not 
believe that Spain was created that he might write plays 
about it, the other does not believe that " the part is greater 
than the whole '\ 

The stage in Spain is in a singularly healthy condition. 
There are dozens of playwrights who toil for it with un- 
failing regularity and success, thousands of citizens whose 
means are modest and whose patronage of the theatre is 
perennial. The Spanish stage seems to take its proper place 
in the scheme of things, far below Church and State, not 
quite on the level of the learned professions. The stage and 
those who appear upon it can make no pretensions to large 
social recognition. The Spanish actor and actress advance 

90 



THE THEATRE IN SPAIN 91 

no claims to a prominent position in the national Valhalla ; 
their greatest ambition is to achieve distinction in their 
work, not to gain admission to any casa senorial. The 
Spaniard with his fine common sense recognizes that the 
actor is like any other man and the actress like any other 
woman. They — actors and actresses — leave their limelight 
in the theatre and their photographs among their personal 
friends. Few posters glorify them, and their opinions on 
matters lying outside the scope of their profession are 
neither sought nor publicly expressed. Plays are not written 
round people, for a Spanish audience would be quick to 
resent the production that is chiefly remarkable for the 
opportunities it gave to the "Lessee and Manager" to 
monopolize the centre of the stage and dominate all the 
striking situations. The Spaniard leaves all this vulgarity 
to the Plaza de Toros, where, if the diestro does dominate 
the arena, he risks his life all the time and is applauded for 
his skill and courage, not merely for usurping all the best 
situations. The playgoing public in Spain demands that all 
parts be well filled and that the interest be fairly distributed. 
A play must have some definite relation to life and character ; 
for in life, as the playgoer knows, there is a measure of in- 
terest in all men's actions. The sanity of the Spanish mind 
has enforced the sanity of the Spanish stage, and though 
Spain has had long periods of depression and poverty, the 
theatre has never declined in popularity or worth. Very 
frequently it criticizes the State, but of late years it has 
added support to criticism. When the Spanish-American 
War broke out, the Government, at its wits' end to increase 
the sources of revenue, imposed a ten per cent ad valorem 
duty on theatre tickets in common with those issued for all 
other places of amusement, and though the necessity for the 
tax may be said to have gone by, it remains unrepealed. 



92 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

For every thousand pounds that Spain spends on amuse- 
ment, one hundred passes, in theory at least, to the coffers 
of the State. Doubtless a little falls by the way, but then 
Spanish administration is framed on lines that seem to re- 
cognize human frailty, and nobody expects that the State 
will receive all its due. 

In Spain you go to the theatre by the hour. You can 
go from eight to nine, from nine till ten, ten till eleven, or 
eleven till twelve. This of course is at one of the theatres 
in which four short plays are given in the course of the 
evening. Such pieces belong to the system of production 
called genero chico. At certain theatres, like the Liceo at 
Barcelona and the Espafiol and theComedia in Madrid, the 
genero grande system is in vogue, and tickets are issued for 
the whole evening which is given to one play in three or 
four acts. The Spanish temperament responds a little 
more readily to the system of genero chico : the Spaniard 
likes to spend one hour or two hours at a theatre and give 
the rest of his evening to a cafe or to a pleasant stroll, or 
to reunion at a friend's house. For the genero grande in a 
big city he will pay the equivalent of six shillings for a stall, 
and for \}s\^ genero chico a trifle under two shillings for each 
hour-section in the same part of the house. 

The price of boxes varies according to tier. The platea^ 
or box on the ground floor, holds six seats that cost a trifle 
more than the stalls, for in addition to the price of the box 
itself a fee for entry into the theatre (entradd) is charged 
to each seatholder. For the whole evening the entrada 
costs one peseta. The six seats in a first-tier box cost 
rather less than six stalls, and on the second tier prices 
suffer a still further reduction. Entrada in the form of a 
supplement is only charged on the boxes ; it serves as an 
admission to the house, and while he who has a box but no 



THE THEATRE IN SPAIN 93 

entrada must wander as disconsolate as the Peri outside 
the gates of Paradise, he who has an entrada without a box 
may find a seat in the gallery, for the entrada is no more 
than the ticket by which one gains the right to sit among 
the gods. The system is slightly confusing to the English 
tourist, who is accustomed to make one payment and no 
more for his privileges. Many a sturdy Briton has been 
encountered in the vestibule of a Spanish theatre at one of 
the great tourist centres, fiery red with indignation as he 
endeavours to explain in hotel Spanish that he has paid for 
his box once, and will see Spain in a place where the 
climatic conditions are still more enervating before he will 
part with another peseta. Perhaps somebody who knows 
a little of Spanish customs and the Spanish language comes 
to the rescue ; paterfamilias pays the extra six pesetas for 
his six entradas^ and followed by his indignant wife and 
equally outraged olive-branches, makes his way to his platea, 
vowing that he will write on the morrow to his Britannic 
Majesty's Ambassador and his favourite daily paper in order 
that British subjects may be warned that brigandage still 
obtains in Spain. 

The prices quoted above are those that are claimed in 
the most expensive Spanish theatres, exclusive of the opera 
house ; in provincial cities they are much lower, and it is 
easy to understand that under these conditions " the play 
is the thing ". The impresario does not try to reach his 
patron's brain or heart through the eye ; he has learned by 
experience that a Spanish audience will not respond to 
such an endeavour. Mounting and dressing are quite a 
secondary consideration, with the result that the quality of 
stage plays is higher in Spain than it is in England, where 
the mise en scene covers or uncovers such an appalling 
poverty of ideas. The musical comedy that thrives for a 



94 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

couple of years in London to the acclamations of the half- 
educated comfortable classes, on whose behalf Oliver 
Wendell Holmes pleaded for *^ A Society for the Propaga- 
tion of Intelligence," would only secure a three months' 
run in Spain by flying from the contempt of one city to the 
contempt of the next. 

Spain has no institution corresponding to the Comedie 
Frangaise, but it is not without hopes of establishing one. 
The only indication of national feeling is revealed by the 
Teatro Espafiol, where the productions are limited to those 
of Spanish dramatists, but it is recognized on all sides by 
the people who take an interest in drama that Spain has a 
sufficient number of competent writers to carry on the tra- 
ditions of Calderon and Lope de Vega, and that if a national 
theatre can be established, there will be no dearth of sound 
modern plays to hold the mirror up to the social or political 
life of the hour — and the hour never varies in Spain — or 
reflect some aspect of the country's regionalism in which all 
Spain is interested. For it should be remembered that in 
spite of the diff'erences of life and thought which are founded 
upon regionalism and serve to prevent or at least to hinder 
political cohesion, there is no district in Spain that does not 
take a'platonic interest in the idiosyncrasies of its neighbours, 
and a regional play dealing with one district of Spain will 
always draw a good house in another district, provided the 
play has certain intrinsic merits. The dialect, costume, and 
mode of thought of any district in Spain are intensely in- 
teresting to those who believe their own special methods of 
approaching the phenomena of life to be the only methods 
that matter. 

Some light upon the Spaniard's attitude to life in its varied 
aspects may be gathered from the reception that has been 
accorded to certain dramatists of world-wide repute. For 



THE THEATRE IN SPAIN 95 

example, Ibsen enjoyed a very brief reign in Spain ; his 
appeal was limited to the intelectuales who imported their 
Ibsen from Paris, and were prepared to receive the plays 
with enthusiasm because they regard the French capital as 
the supreme centre of intellectual life. But there was some- 
thing about Ibsen that even they could not accept ; they 
were puzzled and shocked, and, after a few months' con- 
sideration, put Ibsen's plays upon the shelf, where they lie 
to this day under an ever-accumulating pile of dust. 
Shakespeare, on the other hand, has always met with ready 
acceptance in Spain ; Hamlet is given frequently not only in 
Madrid but in the provincial theatres, and the success is the 
more significant because it would be idle for us to believe 
that England is accepted by the Spaniard as a centre of art 
or intelligence. The Spaniard has a kindly feeling for the 
Englishman, but still associates him with the sun-helmet, 
green umbrella, prominent front teeth, and Dundreary 
whiskers. He is a good friend, el senor ingles, but a terrible 
business-like person whose pocket drops gold, whilst strange 
oaths issue from his mouth and his hand is ready to become 
a fist on the least provocation, while his eye roams over sea 
and land in search of fresh territory on which to plant the 
Union Jack, the Bible, a barrel of rum, and a battery of 
quick-firing guns. Other conceptions of the Englishman 
may exist, but this is the popular one, and figures very 
frequently upon the lighter Spanish stage. Perhaps Shake- 
speare is regarded as the universal dramatist, and it must 
not be forgotten that Paris herself has given him her 
cachet. 

Turning to deal in detail with various aspects of the 
Spanish stage, it is necessary to say a few words about the 
grand opera. This flourishes at certain seasons of the year in 
Barcelona and Madrid with the aid of a Government subsidy 



96 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

It is entirely Italian in form, this form having being fixed 
when Rossini came to Madrid. Since then Spain has never 
found an opening on the grand opera stage for the expres- 
sion of her national musical genius, though of late years 
Spanish opera has been produced in Barcelona. " Los 
Pirineos," a Trilogy by the Catalan composer Pedrell, created 
something like a sensation. It tried to embody the legends 
of the Pyrenees but failed, largely because the composer was 
not sufficiently faithful to his own genius, and reflected both 
Italian and German influences to an extent that did not 
flatter the patriotic instincts of his countrymen. Pedrell is 
reckoned the premier composer of Spain. Other attempts 
have been made, but they have not been sufficiently success- 
ful to call for record here. In Madrid the Teatro Lirico, 
built for the development and encouragement of National 
Opera, failed altogether. At present grand opera in Spain 
is an exotic, just as it is in London ; Italian artists are 
engaged, Italian operas are mounted, and French or German 
work is rendered in Italian. Wagner came into Madrid, not 
from Bayreuth, but from Paris, and was hailed with 
enthusiasm by the intelectuales , Some attempt was made 
to establish a Wagner cult, but it met with very little success, 
for every one opera-goer whose admiration for the master 
is absolutely genuine, there are half a dozen who merely 
pretend to like him, and neither Barcelona nor Madrid can 
draw a crowded house to a Wagner programme, though one 
of the old-fashioned Italian operas, with plenty of melody 
and little sense, will strain seating and standing accom- 
modation to the uttermost. The attitude of the Spaniard 
towards ** Carmen " is very interesting. He loves the music, 
which is founded to no small extent upon national airs, but 
any very realistic interpretation of the name part, any at- 
tempt to present the gipsy-girl of Prosper Merim^e's story 



THE THEATRE IN SPAIN 97 

is an offence. One of the greatest exponents of the part, 
whose interpretation has roused enthusiasm in Europe and 
America, would hardly care to appear as Carmen in Madrid 
or Barcelona. The regionalism of Catalufia and Castile 
differs very widely from that of Seville, and it might have 
been supposed that neither Castilian nor Catalan would 
have been ill-pleased to see one aspect of Sevillian life 
treated with frank and unsparing realism. Perhaps the 
suggestion of barbarism offends the average Spaniard, who 
knows that no other expression of the national life has ever 
found acceptance in grand opera, and objects to this pictur- 
esque but uncomplimentary treatment. Neither " Don 
Giovanni '' nor the *' Barber of Seville " is Spanish in the 
same sense as " Carmen ". 

It may be said without fear of contradiction that nearly 
every Spaniard is musical, and it can readily be understood 
that performances of grand opera in an alien tongue in 
Madrid and Barcelona do very little to satisfy the national 
appetite for music. On the occasion of great fiestas, when 
the bull-ring is not required for a corrida, it frequently 
serves for an open-air concert, which assumes the size and 
importance of a great gathering at the Albert Hall, with 
the reservation that the Plaza de Toros in one of the great 
cities of Spain could put the Albert Hall in one corner and 
forget it was there. The Spaniard has a natural love 
of melody and a very receptive ear. Let him listen to a 
tune once or twice and he can sing it or pick out the 
melodies on his guitar, and as concerts are few and far be- 
tween, and grand opera beyond his reach, he falls back on 
the zarzuela, the national musical comedy of Spain. 

The zarzuela is purely regional ; each one reflects the 
habits, customs, and spirit of the district round which it is 
written. It becomes in a way a piece of highljj; specialized 
7 



98 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

work with a regional basis, and he who would wish to learn 
Spain intimately in the countless divisions that are un- 
marked on any map, could hardly do better than attend a 
course of zarzuelas in Madrid, Seville, or Barcelona with 
some Spanish friend who can explain references that are 
absolutely lost to the uninitiated. The zarzuela seldom lasts 
more than an hour, two or three are required to make up 
an evening's entertainment. The zarzuela grande in three 
acts is no longer popular, and some of the best specimens 
of the class have been cut down to play within the hour. 

Although the Spanish theatre has little money to spend 
on the mise en scene, strict attention is always paid to ac- 
curacy of local colour and costume where the zarzuela is 
concerned. There are keen critics in the audience ; excite- 
ment runs high, and the most trifling inaccuracy would be 
held to justify something that can only be referred to as a 
demonstration in force. It does not take the form of hissing, 
but of rhythmic hammering on the floor with feet or sticks, 
accompanied by shrill whistling. In the early days of the 
writer's Spanish experiences, he attended a performance of 
" La Gran Via '' in Madrid and sat with some friends in a 
stage box. The prima donna sang extremely well, and the 
novice, anxious to accord his approval, hammered enthusi- 
astically on the floor of the box with his walking-stick. 
The lady darted a reproachful glance at him, and refused 
her encore. One of his friends remarked, ^'You are very 
critical to-night. I thought she sang well." 

" So did I," replied the novice, " that is why I applauded." 
Then he was told that the noise that is a compliment 
to an English singer is an insult to her Spanish sister. 
Happily a bouquet and some applause of the more orthodox 
description {pl^ and muy bi^n) helped an explanation to set 
the matter right, Spaniards are very excitable, whether in 



THE THEATRE IN SPAIN 99 

the theatre or in the bull-ring ; they do not hesitate, frankly 
to criticize a performance, whether by matador or opera 
singer, that falls short of the standard they wish to see 
established. Madrid is a scene of frequent interruption 
both in zarzuela and grand opera. Some years ago a very 
bad tenor was singing in "Aida" at the opera house, and 
when the trial scene was in progress and the High Priest 
called out ^* Radames, Radames, Radames," a voice from the 
gallery, imitating to a nicety the clerical gentleman's intona- 
tion, added, " Que malo es^ que tnalo es^ que malo es " (he's no 
good) with absolutely fatal results, as far as the grief of 
Amneris and the gravity of the house were concerned. 

The music of a zarzuela is built up from some national 
airs belonging to the region, or consists of original themes 
one and all so closely allied in thought and feeling that, 
not infrequently, they pass into the ranks of that region's 
folk-songs. Happy is the man who can give one of these 
songs to his province, as Caballero did in his *^ Gigantes y 
Cabezudos," etc. It gives him such a measure of distinc- 
tion as comes to the young matador when he " takes the 
alternativa " from one of Spain's greatest diestros. 

It is to the zarzuela that we must go to see the finest 
dancing in Spain. Dancing, like everything else, is regional ; 
the measures so very popular in the north find no accept- 
ance in the south ; east and west hold no communion where 
dancing is concerned. But the zarzuela introduces the 
dances of the district of its birth, entrusts them to men 
and women who were born there, sets them in surround- 
ings which are as faithful as possible to nature, and accom- 
panies them with the music that is their own. The result 
is stimulating to a degree, and because every Spaniard is a 
dancer at heart, he loves his country's measures even when 
they belong to the parts he deems benighted. But for 



loo HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

the zarzuela Spanish dancing would have fallen on evil 
days, just as folk-lore would have done, for even the 
Pyrenees have not altogether served as a barrier between 
the natural genius of the Spanish stage and the cosmo- 
politan forces that are at work on the French side of the 
frontier. Slowly but surely even the zarzuela is acknow- 
ledging the influence of the music hall, an institution which 
does not flourish in Spain. There is a regrettable tend- 
ency to introduce interludes — alien in thought and feeling 
from the main idea animating the production — and it may 
be that in the course of time the zarzuela will become 
corrupt and then Spanish folk-lore, folk-songs, and dances 
will disappear as the mantilla is disappearing from the 
flower-decked hair of the modern Spanish lady. Down to 
the present the zarzuela has preserved Spanish types as 
faithfully as Goya did ; it has served as the connecting-link 
between the Spain of yesterday and to-day, and nobody 
who loves Spain can witness the substitution of such futile 
work as ''El Perro Chico " for ''La Virgen de la Paloma" 
without sincere regret Happily Spain's increasing pros- 
perity has enabled many interesting scores to be published 
in the past few years. Doubtless they will inspire the 
musicians of other lands — some of whom may even forget 
to acknowledge the source of their inspiration. 

The music of the zarzuela^ like its dances, is regional. The 
northern composer and his southern brother in the Lord 
have nothing in common save the Spanish sense of tuneful- 
ness and a certain proficiency in matters of technique. The 
country impresses its mood upon those who write ; it is as hard 
for the Galician composer to be gay as for the Andalusian 
to be morbid. In the Basque Provinces, in the village of 
Loyola to be precise, where the great Ignatius founded the 
still greater Society of Jesus and took the name by which 



THE THEATRE IN SPAIN loi 

he is best known, the Basques have their sacred tree called 
the " Guarnica ". It is the emblem of their liberties of which 
they still preserve some that are not enjoyed by the rest of 
Spain, and the Guarnica lends its name to their national 
hymn. The rhythm of this music differs altogether from 
that of other parts of Spain, and when the Basque Provinces 
give a composer to their country, his music has its own 
essential characteristics that none in Spain can imitate and 
few outside Spain can understand. It expresses in its own 
strange fashion the spirit of the wild land of its birth, and 
the Guarnica, heard thousands of miles beyond the shadow 
of the Pyrenees, will rouse a Basque to such enthusiasm as we, 
whose blood runs so quietly in our veins, can hardly under- 
stand. To realize the strength of the national feeling that 
finds its reflection in Basque music, we have but to remember 
it was only the people of the Basque Provinces and Navarre 
who made the Carlist rising possible and gave the best 
generals to the cause. Don Carlos did no more than promise 
that in the event of his success he would confirm his sup- 
porters the enjoyment of their traditional rights. 

In Galicia, where th^gallegada is the popular song, a certain 
sadness pervades the country's music. There is nothing 
Oriental about this ; it is purely Celtic, and marks the racial 
union between the Galician, the Breton and the Welshman. 
In the Asturias music begins to grow lively, and the jota 
makes an incomplete appearance. The long-drawn cadence 
of the g-al/egada begins to yield to the shrill merry notes of 
the jo^a which has crept up from the centre and east. 
Aragon has brought thejota to perfection ; here it seems a 
national product untouched by Moorish influence; in the 
Castiles and Navarre it is also predominant. In Valencia 
and Murcia the Arab influence still lingers in strength, and 
has given the jota a certain sombre effect that seems to find 



I02 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

fitting place amid its surroundings. Thejo^a is always sung 
by a male tenor voice, and the chorus which follows the copla 
or tenor solo is an accompaniment to a dance with a strange 
jerky rhythm that has no exact counterpart in English 
music. 

Down in the south we find the expression of another life, 
not always joyful, but always holding something of the spirit 
of the sun. There are countless songs and dances native to 
Andalusia. The ^ang-o and the granadinos^ the bolero and 
the sevillanas, one and all are Andalusian, associated with 
striking movements of which the peculiar action from the 
hip, called, I think, zarandeo^ is most noticeable to English 
eyes. Some measures are written in quick time, a very 
frenzy of music and movement, others are slow and stately ; 
still more have a certain strange fascination that rouse a 
Sevillian to ecstasy. Such a one is the dance by a man and 
a woman, the first dressed as a bull-fighter and wearing the 
capa de paseo, and a girl in the local dress of Seville or 
Malaga. It is in three parts, and is a dance of fascination 
from start to finish. In the last moment the torero flings 
his cloak on the ground and his partner stands triumphant 
upon it, to a chorus of oles. This dance is a variation of the 
popular and beautiful sevillana which is generally danced 
by two girls or a series of girls in couples. 

The writer remembers, in the early days of his first visit 
to Spain, finding a little company of girls in far-away 
Carmona who danced so beautifully that he wrote to the 
managing director of one of our leading variety theatres in 
London, asking him to engage them. A reply came back 
asking him to arrange for them to come over on certain 
terms that seemed absurdly generous. The girls were not 
professional dancers ; they earned their living in little shops 
and probably gained no more than twelve pounds a year 



THE THEATRE IN SPAIN 103 

apiece. Their parents were quite willing for them to come 
to London, but every girl's parents insisted upon coming too, 
and in one case an uncle was also deemed indispensable. 
All these worthy people demanded as the price of their visit 
to the Metropolis the salary of an ambassador, and the cost 
of bringing over the six girls and their expensive families 
was absolutely prohibitive. So they remained where they 
were, and London, not knowing what it had missed, re- 
mained quite tranquil. But some years afterwards these 
dancers were to be met in Seville under the segis of a guide 
associated with one of the large hotels, who would declare 
unblushingly that they had fulfilled engagements at enor- 
mous salaries in London, Paris, and Berlin. Doubtless the 
worthy and imaginative man would have added to the 
list of capitals had he known the names of any more. 

The music of these national songs and dances is supplied 
by the guitar, the castanets, and, one regrets to add, the 
bagpipes. This weird and offensive instrument is happily 
only played in Galicia and Asturias. Heard from a great 
distance, it is less unpleasant than it might be under other 
conditions, but the ideal way of hearing the bagpipe is 
perhaps realized by those who allow an ample province to 
stretch its miles of mountain, plain, and meadow between 
the performer and themselves ; they can then imagine that 
they hear the strange substitute for music, and there is 
nothing' radically wrong in this attitude, for those who go to 
Spain make a practice of imagining that they have seen and 
heard things, and learn in this fashion to lie with circum- 
stance if not with pomp. 

But be the music what it may, the detestable bagpipe, the 
shrill Castanet, or the tinkling guitar, it is the proper accom- 
paniment of Spanish song and dance. The zarzuela^ the 
finest repository of Spanish folk-lore and Spanish folk-songs. 



104 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

makes use of the traditional accompaniment, though it must 
be confessed that down to the present the writer has seen 
no zarzuela in which the bagpipe has been introduced, the 
bassoon and oboe supplying a sufficiently effective substitute 
to satisfy all save Galicians. 

Romantic drama of a tragic kind follows the traditions of 
Calderon and still thrives in Spain. A very notable example 
of this is " Don Juan Tenorio,'^ none other than our old 
friend Don Giovanni whom Mozart immortalized for the rest 
of Europe. Don Juan was of course an Andalusian, " in 
Seville was he born, a pleasant city," and the city of his 
birth still preserves the legendary story of his life. The 
play *^Don Juan Tenorio" was written by Zorilla less than 
fifty years ago and has achieved such extraordinary popu- 
larity in Spain that it is given regularly in every theatre of 
importance, to say nothing of others, on the night of Todos 
los Santos. The romantic drama is not the less popular in 
Spain on account of the costume with which it is associated. 
It carries the Spaniard back to the palmy days of world- 
empire, and the costumes assumed are those that obtained 
in those years. The capa and espada are worn in the old 
fashion that has almost passed from the country, though there 
are a few Madrilefios who still contrive to bring the atmo- 
sphere of Spanish tragedy and world-empire into their 
daily life. 

In the world of comedy the Spanish dramatist ignores 
regionalism and invokes satire. The mordant Spanish 
humour that sees into the heart of things finds its happiest 
reflection on the comedy stage, where the abuses of admini- 
stration and social usage seem to evoke the heartiest laughter 
from those who suffer most under them, until the stranger 
wonders whether it is not the saving grace of humour that 
keeps the Spaniard from taking his troubles too seriously. 



THE THEATRE IN SPAIN 105 

It will be seen that the drama in Spain is in a prosperous 
condition enough — sane, clever, and able to steer an even 
course between the Scylla of extreme modernity and the 
Charybdis of banality. The apotheosis of the music hall 
in other countries has affected the zarzuela slightly, and the 
kinematograph is still fresh enough to attract and delight 
many thousands of simple folks. There is no snobbery in 
the world of Spanish drama ; a zarzuela, a smart modern 
comedy, and a kinematograph display will join forces to 
afford the public a pleasant evening's entertainment, and 
there are many who will pass from one item to the other 
with complete enjoyment. 

A revival of the sainetes^ tiny, little plays with two or 
three characters founded upon and illustrating some popular 
proverb, is another feature of the modern Spanish stage. 
Lope de Vega brought the sainetes to a high state of perfec- 
tion and thereafter they passed from popularity only to 
regain it in these latter days. 



r 



CHAPTER IX 

THE SPANISH KITCHEN 
A Statement for the Defence 

WHEN you speak to the average Englishman of 
Spanish cooks and cookery, he draws himself up 
as if suddenly suspicious of danger, sniffs the air as though 
to assure himself that garlic is not going to spring upon him 
unawares, and regards you with some measure of mistrust 
for all future time. His suspicions are unfounded ; his pre- 
judices would be removed or at least modified by residence 
in Spain. 

The first impression that comes to the Englishman who 
has a few opportunities for enjoying Spanish hospitality is 
one of simplicity. The Spaniard is neither a gourmand nor 
a gourmet ; he eats comparatively little, and likes that little 
not only to be simple but to be associated as intimately as 
possible with the district in which he has been brought up. 
Every part of Spain has its special dish, the only one that 
seems likely to attain to national importance being the 
puchero, which, of old time, found its popularity limited by 
the boundary of the Castiles. Owing to the intensely 
regional spirit that can never be disregarded when Spanish 
life — political, social, or domestic — has to be considered, 
questions relating to domestic cookery sometimes acquire 
an immense importance. If a Castilian should marry a lady 
from Valencia, or a Sevillana should entrust her destinies to 

1 06 



THE SPANISH KITCHEN 107 

the custody of a Galician, the couple are faced with a crisis 
of the first magnitude. To what extent must the arroz 
valenciano of the first-named bride yield pride of place to 
thepuchero of her lord? How far will the Galician be pre- 
pared to go in surrendering his mXAomXpote to th^ gazpacho 
beloved of the lady of his choice? Compromise, the chief 
factor in statecraft, is also of first importance in the realms 
of domesticity, and doubtless under the influence of love 
and in a spirit of toleration, the happy couples will decide 
to allow each national dish to share the place of honour in 
turn. At the same time no lady of the Castilian's family 
will Qditpuchero of the wife's making without a certain feeling 
of pity and contempt for one to whom the true secrets are 
withheld, nor will this Sevillana learn readily to make a 
pote that can reach her husband's heart as readily as it can 
reach a less sentimental part of his anatomy. On the 
other hand, the fair Valencian will prefer the arroz of her 
native land as long as she lives, and the Sevillana will find 
in gazpacho and chocolate all that she requires to sustain 
her interest in the table. After all, religious difficulties 
between married couples only come to the fore once a 
week, or when the Church celebrates a fiesta^ but where 
food is concerned, divergencies of opinion and taste can 
hardly be avoided at least twice a day, and it may well be 
that the existence of dishes that are strictly regional in their 
popularity do much to define the boundaries of Spain's 
provinces and hinder the movements towards national 
unity that might add so much to the country's prosperity. 
Carlyle in his " Sartor Resartus '' has dwelt upon the impor- 
tance of clothes. There is room for a philosopher equally 
gifted to discuss the influence of food upon national life 
and character, and nowhere will he find more ample 
material for reflection than in Spain. 



io8 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

Marketing in Spain has its own special characteristics, of 
which the search for bargains and the persistent effort to 
obtain something for less than the price demanded are most 
noticeable. So pronounced is this disposition to buy cheaply 
that it is difficult to arrive at the truth about the price paid 
for a certain article from any person of ordinary moral 
standing. Wives, whose devotion to their husbands could 
hardly be greater than it is, will lie to them cheerfully and 
with circumstance when it comes to telling the story of the 
morning^s marketing. Every woman likes to persuade her 
friends that she can beat the tradesman down below the 
profit mark. 

The housewife relies to no small extent upon street vendors, 
and though she is a fairly regular patron of the established 
market, she seldom remains faithful to any one dealer. She 
knows that only by constant change can she hope to secure 
bargains or even honest service, for the Spanish trades- 
man will not make much effort to keep an old customer, 
though he will make an effort to placate a new one. Fully 
aware of this, the careful housewife constantly changes her 
favours. 

The Spanish market can compare with any in the South 
of Europe without fearing to be reckoned inferior in point 
of colour, variety, and cleanliness. It opens at a very early 
hour. Buyers and sellers often meet for the preliminary 
skirmish that precedes business as early as five o'clock in the 
morning. Ladies of small means go unattended to the market 
and bargain with an eloquence worthy of a popular politician. 
The buyer calls heaven to witness that she can pay no more, 
the seller affirming with equal emphasis that she can accept 
no less. Ladies of the upper middle class are attended by 
a servant, generally one who has grown old in. the study of 
market conditions and can assist her mistress with a free- 



THE SPANISH KITCHEN 109 

dom of expression not permitted to a lady in knocking the 
last ha'penny off the price. Ladies of high position are 
seldom seen in the market : they are content to send their 
servant. 

Before the morning is well advanced the path between 
the stalls is blocked by a mass of cheerful women who seem 
quite sure that they will reach their destination sooner or 
later, and manage under all circumstances to keep a smiling 
face. The attitude of the shopkeepers varies in accordance 
with the day's prosperity. If they have done well, they are 
inclined to be a little truculent, a little intolerant of any 
suggestion that they should abate their demand, while on 
the other hand, if business is not brisk they are prepared to 
deal on a basis that would seem to leave no margin of 
profit. At the same time it is worth noting that the price 
of certain necessaries of life — bread and meat for example — 
is regulated by the district authorities, so that very little 
bargaining is possible here. On the other hand, fish, vege- 
tables, fruit, poultry are subject to violent fluctuations and 
prices vary hourly. 

The aspect of a Spanish market on a fine summer's day 
is perfectly delightful. The close observer of Spanish life 
will hardly have failed to notice that it is never far removed 
from the Church, and many ladies are in the habit of taking 
their beads as well as their market basket, and combining the 
service of their bodily wants with some attention, however 
brief, to their spiritual needs. It may be remarked too that 
the interior of a church, cold and cool and comparatively 
silent, comes as a great relief after the glare and bustle of 
the market-place, although the conditions, not altogether 
pleasing, are more than atoned for by the splendour of the 
colouring, the fragrance of flowers and fruit, the jovial 
spirit of buyers and sellers. There are few places where the 



no HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

colour of the country is more vividly represented than in the 
market. In the first place there is the cloudless blue sky 
looking down upon walls intensely white ; if the market be 
at a seaport there will be a glimpse of water that seems 
studded with jewels, an expanse in which every wavelet 
wears its glittering tiara of the sun's own diamonds. Con- 
trasting with these vivid blues and whites we have the scarlet 
pimientos that are ripe and the bright green pimiento that 
has yet to ripen ; the red cabbage lending some of its tint to 
the cauliflowers by its side; the tender green of the lettuces 
that have been newly watered and seem to retain their fresh- 
ness. Of the flowers detailed description would be im- 
possible — the beauty of colour, form, and perfume is literally 
intoxicating, and sometimes when pressure from the crowd 
keeps sensitive people in the immediate neighbourhood of 
the flower stalls, they complain of headache and faintness, 
the spikenard — nardo — being held responsible for this 
malaise. The flower-girls in the market seem to call aloud 
for a gifted and sympathetic artist. They are often girls of 
rare beauty — the beauty that blooms so suddenly and fades 
almost as quickly as it came. Miserably ill-clad, bare-headed 
and bare-footed, and dependent for the rest upon rags worn 
with some approach to nicety, they have their regular 
patrons for the rich carnations that women love to wear in 
their hair. The prices vary according to the season ; they 
may fetch as much as a real or as little as a halfpenny, and on 
the sale of a few handfuls of these the Spanish flower-girl 
lives and seems to live happily. Simple fare, fresh air in 
abundance and sunshine are the secrets of her content, and 
it is a rare pleasure to be one of her patrons, for her gracious 
movements and pretty smile make ample atonement to the 
stranger for paying twice or thrice the market value of a 
boutonntere. To her countrymen, and specially to those 



THE SPANISH KITCHEN iii 

whose sordid pleasure it is to speak rudely or coarsely to 
defenceless women, the florera has a sharp tongue and a 
ready wit. 

" What will you have ? In La Verdura 
All the day long she keeps a stall : 
Sells you a rose for your peseta, 
Given with a look and — well, that's all." 

One part of the market is given up to live poultry. The 
unfortunate chickens, tied up by the leg in bunches and 
slung across the back of mule or donkey, or carried care- 
lessly in the hand, have been brought to the market and 
sold there to the storekeeper. They have now to face the 
closing hours of their existence, and these hours are painful. 
Spanish women are not acutely conscious of animal suffering 
or greatly concerned with it. They will not hesitate to pick 
up chicken or duck and dig their fingers into it to see if it 
is fat enough to be worth bargaining about. If they are 
not satisfied the unfortunate bird is thrown aside quite 
carelessly to await the attentions of another purchaser. If 
they are satisfied the still unfortunate bird must submit to 
have its defects pointed out by the buyer and its merits 
emphasized by the seller until the bargain is struck. Then 
the pollero cuts the bird's throat over a big pail or butt 
standing in the corner of the shop and hands the still 
struggling body to his assistants — generally women or girls 
— who proceed at once to pluck the still living fowl. Such 
cruelty revolts a visitor but leaves the Spanish housewife 
quite unmoved. 

The fruit stalls with their golden oranges from Valencia, 
bananas from the Canary Islands, asparagus and strawberries 
from Aranjuez, big rough-skinned melons from Castile, 
peaches from Aragon — second to no peaches in the world — 
apricots from Toledo, green figs from Andalusia — all these 



112 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

delicious things are to be found in the market of a 
great city. They are sold at prices that would make an 
English buyer envious, and would lead an English fruit- 
grower to retire at once from business. In a country where 
a splendid peach weighing half a pound may be bought 
for twopence and the finest sugar melon costs no more 
than a shilling, fruit is to be found on every table, and in 
connexion with the sale of melons a curious custom prevails 
in Spain. When a purchaser has chosen his fruit he is 
entitled to request the salesman to cut a small square 
out of the selected melon in order that he may ascer- 
tain whether the quality is equal to the appearance. 
If the melon should be found to belie its promise, the 
purchaser pays three halfpence and returns it to the seller, 
by whom it is sold at a reduced price to some one not so 
particular. 

It must not be supposed that the stranger who knows 
nothing of proper prices and has not learnt to bargain very 
volubly and to realize that every man's hand is against him 
is going to fare well. Unless you are voluble and can speak 
with your hands and your eyes as well as with your tongue, 
and add to your every offer an emphatic no vale mas (it's 
worth no more), you will certainly retire hurt, and even the 
people round you will be greatly amused and pleased to get 
the better of you ; they will even use your misfortunes as a 
lever by which to secure better bargains for themselves. To 
take advantage of a stranger is fair play, and one of the 
writer's earliest experiences was a very useful one. Going 
early one morning to the market of Valencia, I was delighted 
to find on one of the stalls of the fruit sellers a quantity 
of delicious green figs. I inquired the price in my best 
colloquial Spanish and was told that a real would buy ten. 
Determined not to be robbed, I refused to pay more than a 



THE SPANISH KITCHEN 113 

penny for six, and after much bargaining received fifteen for 
my real. Later in the day I waxed vainglorious over 
my capacity to carry out a bargain, much to the amuse- 
ment of my hostess who, after listening patiently to all I 
had to say, summoned her housekeeper and asked the 
morning's price of figs in the market. They were twenty- 
five a penny ! 

Although food in Spain is very cheap, so cheap in fact 
that the margin of profit seems to be quite obscure, it would 
cost still less than it does but for the consumos — the tax 
corresponding to the French octroi. This impost — a source 
of considerable revenue to the authorities — is of course ex- 
tremely unpopular, and every peseta gathered by the ad- 
ministration may be said to have a heavy curse attached 
to it. The effect of the tax is only felt seriously by the 
unfortunate poor whose earnings are ridiculously small. 
Many an agricultural labourer in Spain, a hard-worker 
and diligent, can make no more than twenty-five shillings a 
month, fifteen pounds a year, with perhaps an extra pound 
or even two for the harvest, whether it be of corn or wine 
or oil. On such a one the consumo presses heavily, but 
in spite of that he looks upon life with a cheerful counten- 
ance and does not grumble any more than the Englishman 
who earns twice as much or even more. 

Now we have followed the Spanish housewife to mar- 
ket and may presume that she has beaten down prices 
to the lowest possible figure, told her beads in the church 
and gone back to her home heavily laden with good 
things. They are now in the kitchen, whither we will 
follow. 

The room is very bright and clean, no less clean indeed 
than the scrupulously tended market-place in which the 
food-stuffs were bought. Brass or copper cooking utensils 



114 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

all in a state of high polish seem to smile from the white 
walls. Cooking utensils vary according to the district. In 
the Castiles th^ puchero is cooked in a vessel that takes its 
name from the dish which is sacred to it. The puchero is 
a jug or pot of blue enamel. Earthenware cooking vessels 
are in use all over the Peninsula ; they are porous outside 
and highly glazed within. They are used for boiling and 
stewing, while the frying-pan shouts defiance to regionalism 
from every corner of the country, uniting Galician, Valencian, 
Sevillian and Castilian in the largest measure of universal 
brotherhood that obtains in Spain. Among the lower orders 
who cannot afford to buy their oil as often as they could 
wish, the frying-pan is seldom or never cleaned ; when not 
in use it is covered lightly with cloth or even paper, and the 
housewife guards it with jealous care. Save in the big 
cities and in the cooler north, most of the butter sold in 
Spain is frankly rancid, the best quality being hard to obtain 
under any circumstances and absurdly dear — five shillings 
a pound being asked and paid in Madrid for the genuine 
article. Dripping and lard are rarely used. Olive oil, crude 
or refined, takes their place, save among the pastry cooks, 
and it may be remarked that the Spanish housewife seldom 
makes pastry and seldom entrusts the making to her own 
cook ; she prefers to go direct to th^ pastelerta. Unrefined 
oil has a rather repulsive green tint, and is brought from the 
olive plantation in huge hog-skins. Before it can be used 
the Spanish housewife " fries " it. She fills her frying-pan 
with as much as it can safely hold and puts a piece of bread 
in with it. The oil is then " fried " until the bread is burnt 
black when the oil is poured off into a jar and is ready for 
cooking. The great art of cooking in oil is to preserve the 
right temperature ; if it is not hot enough when the food 
is put in, it will soak right through it ; if it be too hot the 



THE SPANISH KITCHEN 115 

food will be burnt. A great part of the prejudice with which 
Spanish cooking is regarded by visitors is due to some ex- 
perience of the efforts of a clumsy cook. In skilled hands 
a dish cooked with oil is far from unpleasant. To enjoy 
salads in Spain beyond the area of expensive hotels it is 
necessary for the traveller to carry refined oil with him, for 
it is notorious that the Spaniards have never learned to 
refine their own crude product, and in the big cities the 
best oil obtainable is called English oil {aceite inglesd) ; it has 
been sent abroad either to France or England to be refined. 
Not only are the Spaniards incapable of treating their oil 
properly, their wine is no better case. Spain is a great 
wine-producing country in many districts, and a large part 
of the produce of the vineyard is sent in its crude state to 
France, where after due doctoring it changes its nationality 
and is known to the French and British public as Bordeaux 
or claret as the case may be. Happily there are signs that 
the country is wakening up to the heavy loss entailed upon 
it by imperfect viticulture, and in Aragon a very successful 
attempt is being made to deal with the rioja wines as they 
deserve. Aragon is also learning to make jam and to 
bottle fruit, and in this fashion will doubtless do something 
to check the import from Great Britain which has hitherto 
made up in large measure for Spain's deficiencies. But 
as far as the oil is concerned, the properly equipped refinery 
has yet to be established, perhaps because the great major- 
ity of housewives are perfectly satisfied with their familiar 
procedure. Indeed, you may hear them declare that the 
clear refined oil imported from France and England is to be 
regarded with suspicion. ** A^(9 se sabo loque contzene^^ (nobody 
knows what it contains), says the Spanish housewife, proud of 
the bilious green concoction out of which she must burn the 
more obvious abominations before it is fit to use even in 



ii6 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

a Spanish kitchen. It may be of course that the national 
palate is not a delicate one ; indeed but for the glorious light 
that shines upon the Spanish table from the pasteleria one 
would be inclined to favour this view, for it must be con- 
fessed that a superabundance of garlic, rancid butter, 
wine that takes the skin off the palate, and bread that is 
frequently sour are distinct blemishes from our perhaps 
insular standpoint. 

Now it is time to sing the praises and discuss the in- 
gredients of glories that remain to Spain even in these days 
when world-empire is lost. Puchero^ gazpacho^ pote, arroz 
valenciano^ olla podrida^ and pisto — here we have the most 
notable sextette in the world — fit subjects for the poet's 
song, the musician's ode, the painter's fancy, and the 
sculptor's dream, while the historian scanning the story 
of the world will look in vain to any country to supply 
him with six national dishes of anything like equal im- 
portance. 

To make puchero soak garbanzos (chickpeas) in salt- 
water over night. In the morning take a piece of beef, a 
slice of lard that may be fresh or may be a year old, a 
chorizo which is a sausage as full of subtle flavour as of 
mystery, and potatoes, new for choice. Boil very slowly for 
about five hours, and eat on three hundred and sixty-five days 
in the year if the necessary papal dispensation can be 
obtained. But do not seek to eat without knowledge. 
Puchero must be approached with respect, for it is a many- 
sided delicacy. In the first place it yields soup, and this 
should be served with vermicelli and eaten with toasted 
bread and a little flavouring of garlic. A glass of sherry 
may be taken with propriety at a time like this. Then 
follow the garbanzos and potatoes and certain green 
vegetables that are not deemed quite worthy of intimate 



THE SPANISH KITCHEN 117 

association with a puchero and are consequently cooked 
apart. Tomato sauce is associated with this course. Then 
the meat follows, rich in the added flavour of the in- 
gredients among which it passed its hours of cooking. 
Among the wealthy who are becoming denationalized a 
dish offish may follow tho^ puchero, to which, by the way, 
chicken and ham may have been added, while sweets 
and cheese succeed as though to rob the meal of its 
truly Spanish qualities. But the poor and the lower 
middle classes are content with the xqbX puchero and nothing 
else. 

Let us now turn with renewed appetite to the arroz 
valenciano. To make this take careful heed to the follow- 
ing instructions. Procure a large earthenware vessel and 
cover the bottom to the depth of an inch with the purest 
oil you can buy. Add, when the oil has reached the 
proper temperature, a measure of the finest rice and leave 
it to suffer the pangs popularly reserved for sinners until it 
has assumed a golden tinge. Then put in your meat, which 
should be veal for choice, though you may call with equal 
readiness upon rabbit or pig or sheep. Fill with water, suffi- 
cient to cover the top of the meat (for every cupful of rice 
twocupfuls of water are given by the wise and experienced) ; 
error here is fatal. Add red peppers (pimientos) and then 
close the pot. A short address to the patron saint may be 
efficacious and can at least do no harm. If all goes well 
within the earthen pot, there should be a result that will for 
at least an hour or two drive all sorrow out of life. In 
Valencia itself this dish is sometimes made without meat, 
and then it is known as arroz viudo (widowed rice). Al- 
though this formula properly belongs to Valencia and to 
Valencia alone, it has been appropriated by the rest of 



ii8 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

Spain for picnic purposes ; not only is it grateful and com- 
forting to those who take part in the merienda, but the 
cook who can produce it under alfresco conditions in a 
perfect state receives the warmest congratulations of all 
present. 

While even the Englishman may reasonably be expected 
to Qn]oy puckero and arroz valenciano, let us with all com- 
mendable honesty admit that the taste for the four national 
dishes that remain is nourished best and developed to the 
farthest extent on Spanish soil and under the Spanish sun. 
It is unwise even for the intelligent tourist to make too 
intimate an acquaintance with the others. Pote gallego^ for 
example, can be best appreciated by those who have ridden 
through Galician highlands without breaking fast from morn- 
ing to evening. Then when one's destination is reached, 
perhaps it is some picturesque farm-house, wellnigh deserted 
by the younger generation that has gone to seek its luck in 
more prosperous lands allonde los mare (beyond the seas), 
leaving the father of the family to gather what profit he 
may from his herd of familiar, one might almost say vulgar, 
pigs. He will not be unwilling to welcome the stranger to 
share such rude accommodation as his neglected home 
can afford and will set before him the pote gallego. It con- 
sists of potatoes and a special cabbage grown in the district 
on a much higher stalk than those we see at home. It is 
called berza. Potato and cabbage are boiled in water with 
lard and eaten with bread and garlic. Should the farmer have 
a little meat to spare he will add it in honour of his guest, 
but throughout Galicia, where the rural population is woe- 
fully poor, the gallego is generally content to allow one of 
his precious hams to hang over the pot and convey such 
flavour as it can through the medium of suggestion or 



THE SPANISH KITCHEN 119 

magic or first intention, or any other of the hidden forces of 
nature. Yet let it be confessed that this national dish, even 
when it cannot be reinforced by meat, is very satisfying. 
It chases hunger away, and by so doing serves the only 
purpose for which food is required in the ranks of hard- 
working Spain. The traveller will find it difificult to 
persuade his host to accept anything but thanks for his 
entertainment, and when he rides away with the heart-felt 
" vaya con Dios ! " in his ears, he will feel that he has left 
a friend behind him. 

The olla podrida is a savoury mixture of meat, onions, 
garlic, potatoes, and oil, not unlike Irish stew, but better 
flavoured, and differing from arroz valenciano inasmuch as 
it lacks rice and substitutes potatoes. It is the national 
dish of Northern Spain. If the Navarrese do not like their 
neighbours across the Pyrenees, their dislike is directly 
associated with this national dish, for they hold that the 
French potpourri was stolen from Navarre, while on the 
other hand patriotic Frenchmen have been heard to declare 
that their country gave the olla podrida to ungrateful 
Navarre in the far-off days when it belonged to France. 
Oddly enough, the King of Spain and the President of the 
French Republic have never troubled to appoint a Com- 
mission to inquire into the merits of this vexed inter- 
national question, preferring to leave it unsettled and justify 
the unpopularity of their respective Governments. Many 
a Royal Commission has wasted time and money over 
matters of less interest and importance. 

Pisto is eaten in La Mancha, the land through which Don 
Quixote sought to confer honour on his Dulcinea. It is a 
delicious combination of eggs fried in oil with a mixture of 
Chile peppers and the red and green pimientos. The eggs 



I20 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

are scrambled and sufficient water is added to give the dish 
a consistency of a thick soup. 

Gazpacho^ the last of Spain's national dishes, is favoured 
throughout the sunny land of the Maria Santisima where 
people can live very happily without patronizing the butcher 
more than once a week. Lettuce, peppers, tomatoes, cu- 
cumber are made into a salad with oil and vinegar in which 
garlic has been crushed. The bowl is then filled with water 
and slices of bread are allowed to float on the top. Through- 
out the summer the Sevillian of the lower middle class is 
content with a jicara of chocolate and a roll for breakfast. 
Shortly after midday he takes his gazpacho, and in the even- 
ing a glass of milk or of wine, with perhaps another slice of 
bread, satisfies his simple needs, to say nothing of the wants 
of his wife who may be nursing a baby and yet finds all 
the nourishment she requires in the three modest meals 
just described. 

It should be remarked that the simplicity of life among 
the lower classes in Spain leads the household to need no 
further setting to the table than the large bowl in which the 
national dish is placed and one spoon apiece. If anything 
has to be cut, bread or meat, the master of the house uses 
the clasp knife (navaja) which he carries in his belt for all 
emergencies. 

In spite of these lapses from the conventions that obtain 
among more cultivated people, meal time is a merry occa- 
sion in Spain. The hour snatched from toil seems to be 
sacred to the modest happiness of family life, and it may even 
be suggested that the average Spaniard eats his meal with 
greater relish because it is his national dish. The gallego 
would not enjoy puchero though it is a richer dish than his 
own ; he would feel he was a traitor to his province. Nor 



THE SPANISH KITCHEN 121 

would the Sevillian give up his thin gazpacho for the best 
arroz valenciano in the world. Even the upper classes whose 
association with their own national dishes is almost platonic, 
take care to eat them when they go into the country to en- 
joy themselves. No merienda is complete without the special 
dish of the province in which it is held. 



CHAPTER X 

THE STORY OF THE TABLE 

IN the preceding chapter reference was made at some 
length to the national dishes of Spain, and now it is 
time to point out that the Spaniard does not limit himself 
to any of these unless he be so poor that he can afford no 
more than one good meal a day. Among the middle and 
upper classes there is a very marked taste for Spanish cook- 
ing that has survived all the assaults of the French chef. 
Fairly considered, the one and primal defect of Spain's cook- 
ing is founded upon the poor quality of the oil used. If a 
well-equipped modern refinery could be established in every 
Spanish city boasting a population of more than ten thousand 
people, and if it could be demonstrated beyond the doubts 
of the most conservative standard that oil loses nothing 
worth keeping of its native quality in changing its hue from 
green to yellow and sacrificing the impurities which impart 
such a vile taste and odour, the quality of Spanish cooking 
would be doubled or trebled, and the bitterest enemies of 
Spain would no longer be heard to declare that civilization 
ends at the Pyrenees. It might be suggested courteously 
to the ardent reformers and patriots of Catalonia and Vizcaya 
that the most perfected machinery for propaganda, the one 
instrument which might strike a blow at the heart of region- 
alism, which might in a few years unite all Spain in a bond of 
brotherhood and bring progressive men from all Europe 

12:3 



THE STORY OF THE TABLE 123 

quite cheerfully into their country, is the oil-refinery. This 
suggestion is offered humbly, but with complete confidence, 
to the leaders of Spain's progressive movement. 

In the quality of her pigs and goats Spain bows to no 
country in the world. The skins of the kids are greatly in 
demand in this country and in France. High up in the 
mountains of Castile, where some of the finest flocks of goats 
are pastured, one meets the wildest people in Spain. These 
goatherds, ill-shaven and unshorn, drive their flocks into La 
Mancha for winter feeding, and up into the Castilian hills 
— ^particularly in the neighbourhood of the Sierra de Gredos 
— shortly before the kids are born. He whose taste for 
blood has been nurtured in Plaza de Toros or Arena de 
Gallos, and whose capacity for climbing seemingly inaccess- 
ible hills has been developed to a considerable extent, may 
enter with security into the highland fastnesses, once the 
abode of the worst brigands in Spain. Here, in a day, he 
may see a hundred kids yield their harmless life to the 
slaughterer who exercises upon them the deadly navaja that 
his grandfather was wont to dye in the blood of unfortunate 
travellers. The flesh of the kids is sent down the mountain- 
side in the cool of the evening to the nearest railway station 
whence it is taken to Madrid, to the butcher's shop, the 
carniceria. But the skins are carefully preserved to be packed 
and sent across the frontier. Although there are fine flocks 
of goats in the more arid parts of Andalusia, it is in Castile 
and La Mancha that the goat thrives best, and throughout the 
wilder parts of Spain goat's milk is far more in evidence than 
cow's. It is, moreover, quite a common sight in a Spanish 
city to see a little company of milch goats, some of them 
decorated with tinkling bells, driven through the streets and 
milked in front of the houses of their patrons. Spanish 
doctors hold goat's milk in high esteem and prescribe it very 



124 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

freely for intestinal ailments. It is worth remarking that 
Spain as a country does not suffer very much from con- 
sumption, and scientists tell us that goat's milk is free from 
the germs that develop tuberculosis in the human being, so 
it may be that the widespread use of leche de cabra is re- 
sponsible, in part at least, to this satisfactory condition. 

There are many ways of cooking goat's flesh. It may 
be included in one of the national dishes, the arroz valen- 
ciano^ for instance. At picnics a kid is frequently roasted 
whole. In the house the meat is sometimes put on a spit 
in front of the fire and turned by hand, in fashion tiresomely 
primitive. But perhaps the most popular way of treating 
goat's flesh is to give it the leading role in the production 
of a guiso. The meat is cut into pieces, dipped lightly in 
flour and put into oil that has already reached a certain 
high temperature recognized instinctively by the trained 
Spanish cook. It must be stirred steadily to keep the flour 
from burning, and in a little while water is added. If the 
dish is to be an asado only a few potatoes are now intro- 
duced and they roast in the oil and water — the water having 
been added to keep the food from burning. If, on the other 
hand, the dish is to be a guiso^ the water is put in with a 
liberal hand, all kinds of vegetables are added — green peas 
and young artichokes being most highly esteemed in this 
connexion, and the stew is left to simmer for several hours. 
Should the oil chance to possess a comparatively friendly 
quality, the completed dish is delicious, while, if the oil be 
stronger than meat and vegetables combined, the popularity 
of the guiso will be limited strictly to the Spanish palate. 

The pig occupies a responsible and honourable position in 
Spain. Perhaps the esteem in which it is held may even have 
developed the fierce Spanish hatred of Jew and Moor who eye 
the strange animal askance and have no use for it, alive or 



THE STORY OF THE TABLE 125 

dead. Great herds of pigs, for the most part quite black, 
precede the piping swineherd through the Andalusian wilds, 
and browse upon the fallen acorns of the Valombrosas of 
Aragon and Navarre. For a month or two before the time 
of its departure from the world it has endeavoured to adorn, 
the pig no longer travels in a herd. Cribbed, cabined, and 
confined within a sty, he fares sumptuously upon all the 
waste provender his master can supply, these products 
including a large number of green figs and prickly pears 
not quite good enough for men to sell or eat Unconscious 
of his impending doom, the pig waxes fat, and it is only 
with the greatest difficulty that he can travel unaided to his 
destination and face the debacle associated with All Saints' 
Day. It is necessary to explain at once that in all large 
Spanish cities, pigs can only be killed between November 
and March, the authorities recognizing that pork and the 
Spanish spring and summer cannot be associated without 
grave risk of disease. Even in the villages where no very 
rigid rule obtains, special licence must be applied and paid 
for by those who, for their own particular benefit, would 
kill a pig at any time of the year, and in town and village 
alike, the carcass of the corpulent dead is carefully exam- 
ined before it may be offered to a pig-loving public. Two 
or three days before the advent of Todos los Santos, every 
housewife has given her order to the butcher who is in tem- 
porary receipt of her patronage, and the sorrow of remem- 
bering the departed whose day is to be celebrated in every 
Spanish churchyard, is brightened by the thought that thou- 
sands of pigs are being sacrificed — though one would not 
suggest for a moment that any Spaniard regards them as 
an offering to the souls of the departed. On the day before 
Todos los Santos every Spanish city is one big squeal, as 
thousands of the animals despised by the heretic Jew and 



126 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

infidel Moor pass lamenting out of life, and throughout 
the day the now silent carcasses hang stiffly and solemnly 
outside the butcher's shop, while an unsympathetic public 
saunters by thinking of joys to come. For one like the 
writer, who is a member of the ancient community which 
Spain expelled from her borders, there is little temptation 
to dwell at length upon the many ways of cooking a food 
that makes no personal appeal to him, but in this place duty 
must override prejudice. At the same time the writer feels 
his own shortcomings acutely, and is well aware that he can 
do no justice to the various virtues latent in an animal he 
has never learned to regard with enthusiasm or even ad- 
miration. Accordingly he has asked Mr. Charles Rudy 
whose knowledge of so many aspects of Spanish life is 
superior to his own, and whose " Companions in the Sierra " 
deals so delightfully with the intimate and personal side of 
travel in Spain's by-ways, to do justice to a subject which 
he himself cannot approach with judgment or first-hand 
knowledge. 

Thus, and in parliamentary language, "El Sefior Rudy 
tiene la palabra " (has the word). 

** On receipt of the noble carcass of the hog, brought to 
his shop from the matadero in a huge, two-wheeled cart 
drawn by a tandem of five mules led by an ass, the butcher 
allows his new acquisition to hang a day at his door — head 
downward, with a small pail attached to the snout to receive 
the drippings of blood. At night an expert carver comes, 
and in less than half an hour, hams, steaks, chops, feet, and 
sundry other parts of the animal's anatomy lie on the 
counter ready for the morning's sale. The hams are, how- 
ever, laid aside to be cured, when, cut in thin slices, they 
will be eaten raw, and washed down by copas of vino tinto 
(red wine), or else they will be cooked in sugared water 



THE STORY OF THE TABLE 127 

and sherry. The result isjamon en dulce rightly or wrongly 
considered one of Spain's delicacies. The epidermis of the 
dead pig, with sundry gristly parts of the animal's body, are 
boiled and fried into a pate, and sold under the name of 
chicharrones. As for bacon, it is unknown in Spain, where 
the hog is cut up in such fashion as to leave the lean part 
(of the bacon) to be sold with the ribs, and the fatty part 
as tocino or lard. The latter — one of the ingredients of the 
puchero — is either eaten fresh or else anejo, when, as it is not 
preserved as the French sdle in salt, it acquires a rancid 
taste not wholly agreeable to all palates, Spanish though 
they be. 

" In the cities during the slaughtering season {matanza\ 
the Spaniard's one delight — or at least one of his delights 
— is to indulge in magro, by which name the lean parts, such 
as chops and steaks, are known. Roast pork is not eaten, 
and this neglect of a good thing is one of the drawbacks to 
residence in Spain. But the steaks and chops make up for 
this loss. As often as not the housewife lets the meat — 
chuleta ox filete — steep a few days in a preparation of water, 
salt, vinegar, garlic, and oregano^ — a spice that has given its 
name to one of the States of the Union. Perhaps the 
baptiser was a pork-loving conquistador of yore, and thus 
the State in question may hold itself lucky not to have 
been christened by some word even more expressive of the 
explorer's Spanish tastes. 

" Emerging from its bath, the cleansed flesh of the un- 
clean animal is thrown into the frying-pan moistened with 
oil. When it escapes therefrom, it is — with all due apologies 
to those who despise it — a dish royal, with an aroma of ajo 
about it which I, garlic-loving citizen of the world, cannot 
praise too highly. But if a more perfected cuisine be desired 
by the housekeeper anxious to make a passing impression 



J 



128 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 



upon her lord and master's heart, let her cut the meat up 
into fq/as and include it in an arro^ valenciano^ rich in pimi- 
entos morrones, almejas or shell-fish, and a yard of sausage 
(for thus can they be bought in Spain) cut up into small 
pieces. Then verily will the lord and master, the amo as 
it were, chuparse los dedos^ by which is meant that, after 
having eaten his full, he will place in his mouth, turn about, 
the ten digital appendages of his hands, and withdraw them 
carefully, lovingly, with the remembrance of an opipero meal 
twinkling in the bead-like black of his eyes. 

" There are many kinds of sausages in Spain. But it 
might perhaps be better for all concerned if I were to omit 
the life-history of those that are clandestinely made. There 
is the chorizo (those of Logrono on the Ebro can be recom- 
mended) which is eaten throughout the year for it is cured 
or smoked ; there is the red salchicha reeking in pepper 
ipimenton)^ and the white which is harmless. These are no 
thicker than a child's finger, and long — yards long. The 
morcilla^ corresponding to the French boudin (whence our 
word pudding), is made of pig's blood and rice ; it also can be 
purchased with or without pepper. In days gone by super- 
fluous dogs used to be removed by means of a poisoned 
morcilla ; they could thus pass away on top of a fragrant 
supper, and not curse mankind too violently for having 
sent them on the longest of long journeys on an empty 
stomach. Though this custom has, thanks to civilization, 
been abolished, allusion to it remains in the lenguaje del 
pueblo (popular language) in the form of a gentle instrument 
of torture. A friend has turned his hand against you and 
yours, and thereby most naturally ceases to be your friend. 
You reward him — by devoutly hoping that * he may be given 
a morcilla ' {que le den morcilla)^ the verb ' to eat ' being 
politely eliminated. 



THE STORY OF THE TABLE 129 

" Raw ham is national. It is sustaining, and of a 
pleasant odour and colour. Its taste is fragrant. On long 
tramps across hills, plains, and through dirty hamlets — 
picturesque only from a distance — I have lived on Spanish 
ham, bread, and wine, relying upon no other manjares 
(viands). You can be sure of your ham, for artificial curing 
is unknown {alabado sea Dios !\ and my only advice to 
tramps in Spain is that they eat no meat but goafs flesh, 
and otherwise rely on ham. Thus, and with the bota of 
wine slung across the shoulder, they will be able to fare far 
and in peace with man, beast, and climate. 

" If, in the city, the pig season is of short duration and 
is followed by a dearth long and terrible to bear, the more 
agonizing considering that no provision has been made to 
meet it, in the country it is not so. Every farmer or 
husbandman, even the poorest, annually kills his fattened 
hog. But he does not gobble the lean parts as might a 
glutton, or sell them as would the miser. Hams, codos 
(elbows), and codillos (knuckles) are dried and smoked, the 
tocino is packed away religiously, and as for the remainder 
of the animal, part is turned into rich, home-made chorizos 
or salchichas, and part is slightly fried in its own lard, to 
which red pepper and garlic have been added, and then 
stowed away in earthen jars and pots in the cueva or cellar. 
There they slumber during the summer months when nature 
frizzles away to desert-like aridity, and even the ham in the 
kitchen melts with grief to a skeleton of its former robust- 
ness. On grand occasions the good housewife, armed with 
candil{p\\ lamp), knife, and frying-pan, will pay a mysterious 
visit to the cellar, to one of her pots which, as she full well 
knows, are each worth more than una onza de oro (an ounce 
of gold). Then up she will come again — slowly as befits 
a careful matron, and with a faint glamour of anticipated 
9 



I30 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

pleasure twinkling in her eyes — and soon the delightful 
aroma of fried pork drives away the more objectionable 
odours of a Spanish hut, and involuntarily the honoured 
guest smacks his lips and praises San Anton for his bless- 
ings, not least among them being the good woman's larder, 
a small fraction of which is now sizzling merrily under his 
very nose in the frying-pan. 

" He dicho " (I have had my say). 

My good friend having come to my aid, it is possible for 
one of the Chosen People to continue this narrative. Yet 
another of the delightful national dishes of Spain is made 
by frying slices of potatoes in oil until they are quite soft. 
Eggs are beaten up and poured into the frying-pan, to- 
gether with vegetable, meat, or fish, all in small pieces and 
according to the district in which the tortilla is made. Near 
the coast fish will be added, inland, at certain seasons of the 
year, tomatoes are used, or wild asparagus will be requisi- 
tioned, while some cooks add little pieces of the noble 
animal concerning which Mr. Rudy has just discoursed so 
eloquently. When eggs, green vegetables, and potatoes have 
met their common end in Spanish oil, the mixture is treated 
like an omelette, carefully turned and skilfully browned. 
There are few things a Spaniard likes better than his 
tortilla. He will cut a loaf in half, remove a part of the 
crumb and insert a tortilla in its place, and armed with this 
safeguard against hunger, will go cheerfully on a long 
journey on foot or mule or in the tren botjo. If the wide 
world holds a happier or more contented man my travels 
through a small part of it have not revealed him, and those 
of my friends who know Spain and have journeyed more ex- 
tensively than I in parts remote, are in similar plight. 

As soon as your digestive apparatus is tuned to Spanish 
dishes you will doubtless enjoy garlic soup {sopas de ajo). 



THE STORY OF THE TABLE 131 

This is made by frying nuts of garlic in oil with a liberal 
sprinkling of red pepper. When the garlic is golden brown 
it is withdrawn from the pot to which water is added. 
Eggs are then beaten up and introduced, and bread in slices 
completes a dish that is highly flavoured and very satisfying 
to those who live in a hot climate where a little nourish- 
ment goes a long way. 

Spanish cheese is almost uniformly bad. It is not largely 
in demand in the towns, where cheap imitations of French 
and Swiss cheese command such sale as exists, but in the 
country the farmer's wife makes her own cheeses and even 
goes so far as to preserve some in the oil of her country, 
thus ensuring them against the attack of the passing 
traveller who hails from another land. Catalonia makes 
a third-class Roquefort, and is perhaps responsible for 
a large part of the queso de bola^ an imitation Dutch 
cheese of deeper colour and poorer quality than the real 
thing. In remote parts of the north, the mantequilla, 
which seems to be made of butter and sugar, and is sold in 
grease-proof papers, is eaten with bread. The town of its 
origin would appear to be Reinosa in the Province of 
Santander, on the main line from Madrid, and every 
traveller to this city sends mantequillas to his friends. 
Doubtless those for which the Spanish post office has no 
urgent personal use reach their destination. Many Spanish 
cities have some dainty that is always associated with them. 
Some have been mentioned already, others include the 
turon of Valencia, a very delicious Spanish form of nougat, 
while Alcald de Henares is famous for its candied almonds, 
and Guadalajara for its honey. 

Among very popular Spanish dishes that may be success- 
fully encountered in the houses of the upper middle class 
are meat-balls {almondrigas) served with a sauce of bread 



132 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

and garlic, and lamb or mutton roasted in oil to which 
water has been added at the psychological moment. Of 
the beef eaten in Spain the less said the better. Few 
will forget the shock following the demand for a beef-steak 
in any of Spain's best restaurants. With all due ceremony 
the waiter will place before him an unhappy and unwhole- 
some slice of meat, browned throughout, which bids eternal 
defiance to the best set of teeth and the iinest digestion 
that ever crossed the Pyrenees. Beef does not enjoy much 
popularity in Spain, though the blackened flesh of bulls that 
have died in the Plaza de Toros commands a heavy sale at 
a very small price among the lower classes, who believe that 
they will gather from it some of the bull's strength and 
perhaps — who knows — a little of the matador's skill. It is 
fair to say that this repulsive food is not eaten right away ; 
if it were, the consequences in hot summer weather might 
be fatal. It is kept over night in salt and water with a 
weight on the top of it to extract the blood, and is then 
stewed with wine {estofadd). 

In its supply of fish Spain is extremely fortunate, for 
both the Atlantic and the Mediterranean bring the produce 
of their teeming waters to coast, town, and village. Sardines 
and anchovies (boquerones) are eaten fresh and are very 
popular with all classes ; the cod reaches fine size and ex- 
cellent quality — fresh it is called merluza, and dried bacalao ; 
the tunny-fish is also eaten fresh, often fried like a steak 
and far more palatable than any other steak one gets in 
Spain ; excellent salmon and trout come from the north, 
and among other sea dainties are bream, lobsters, and 
oysters. Bream is very much in demand on Christmas Eve. 
The Spanish fisherman tempts Poseidon in the strangest 
vessels imaginable, most of which on our English coasts 
would be condemned as unseaworthy. But Providence is 



THE STORY OF THE TABLE 133 

kind to him ; his supplies are obtained within easy distance 
of the shore and are sold at prices well within reach of a 
slender purse. Even the cuttle-fish is not despised, and 
shrimps, cray-fish, and prawns are very plentiful. Outside 
Madrid fish is not readily obtained in the interior of Spain, 
the facilities for transport and the supreme indifference of 
railway authorities to such trifling questions as punctuality 
being too much for the powers of endurance of the average 
fish corpse under a Spanish sun. 

Tea and coffee do not thrive in Spain, and the attempt 
to establish tea-houses has never succeeded. Chocolate is 
the national beverage, and is taken in small cups like those 
that serve the Moors for their coffee. The making of 
chocolate in Spanish fashion is quite a fine art. The 
chocolate as the Spanish housewife buys it is already mixed 
with flour and sugar, and an allowance of one ounce per 
cup is deemed requisite. The cake is cut and then enough 
water is added to make a thick paste. It is boiled slowly 
over a charcoal fire in a heavy iron pot that is seldom washed, 
but is carefully kept covered up. The morning chocolate is 
taken with churros or bunuelos which can be bought from 
street vendors in the early hours of the day. They are 
made of a paste of ^^^ and flour fried very rapidly in boiling 
oil. In small villages the keeper of the local taberna pre- 
pares them for everybody, and at ih^feria they are made 
throughout the day and night and eaten as soon as they are 
taken out of the oil. A more curious custom still, and one 
that is not quite so offensive as it sounds, is to eat the 
morning chocolate with a mixture made of breadcrumbs, 
garlic, and spice fried in oil. A spoonful of the composition 
is taken and dipped in the chocolate! To the hardy 
Spaniard this does not act as an emetic, although it may be 
remarked that he often supplements the curious mixture 



134 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

with a small glass of aguardiente, a precaution to which the 
most rigid total abstainer could hardly take exception 
under the circumstances, 

In the conduct of her household we have seen that the 
Spanish lady is very suspicious of those who serve her. 
Her baker, her butcher, her grocer are all changed, either 
upon the slightest pretext or without any. And this 
curious suspicion is almost an Oriental characteristic that is 
perhaps developed to the fullest extent in a country where 
the confessional plays such an important part. As a rule 
the Spaniard suspects his neighbours, suspects those he 
serves and those who serve him, and may be said to receive 
a foreigner with less suspicion than he receives anyone else. 
Now and again in a Spanish household one' meets the 
housewife who places complete confidence in one of her 
servants — the class of confidence that is kept as a rule for 
the confessor. In this case the favourite domestic acts as 
the medium through which everybody else in and out of the 
household is suspected. The attitude towards his neigh- 
bours of the average Spaniard who lives in a big city is 
that of the English agricultural labourer and his woman- 
kind towards the foreigner — that is to say, the man who 
comes from another village perhaps only a mile or two 
away. This suspicion is one of the traits of the Spanish 
character which is mentioned with regret, for Spaniards as 
a race are so eminently lovable, so simple and courteous 
and kindly to strangers that it seems a thousand pities to 
have to record this one undeniable blemish. A strong sus- 
picion of everybody animates the Spanish housewife and 
leads her to deal with all tradespeople as she dealt with the 
traders of the market. The Englishwoman is fairly con- 
stant to her dressmaker ; her Spanish sister never is. As 
soon as two or three dresses have been purchased, the 



THE STORY OF THE TABLE 135 

Spanish lady goes elsewhere for fear lest she should be ill- 
served or kept waiting in favour of some new client. In the 
lower middle classes the care of the pence is carefully 
studied ; in the towns living is literally from hand to mouth ; 
nobody would buy half a pound of anything if two ounces 
will satisfy immediate needs. Even coal is bought in the 
cities by the arroba — a measure of some thirty pounds — and 
for reasons best known to the Spanish mind, tradesmen 
offer no inducements to their customers to purchase in 
greater quantities, reductions on large orders being un- 
known. As there is no credit there is necessarily no dis- 
count for cash. Even the store system is practically 
unknown in Spain, and it is likely if any enterprising firm 
were to set up a big store on the English or American 
model, patronage would be conspicuous by its absence. 
The business would be regarded as a swindle on a gigan- 
tic scale, and even if it were possible to dispel this idea, 
there would be the ever-present objection to the noise and 
the methodical habits of the modern store-keeper. To 
make matters worse, bargaining would be unknown ; every 
woman would know what her neighbour paid for goods, 
and the delightful fiction of marvellous bargains would 
pass from the list of the Spanish woman's enjoyments. 
While it would not be correct to describe Spanish clubs 
as the historian described the snakes of Iceland, it must be 
admitted that club-life does not flourish. The aristocracy 
in Castile and Andalusia has its clubs — if they were in 
this country the most of them would be closed by the 
police, for gambling is their sole raison detre. For the 
middle classes there are no clubs, but there are regional 
caf6s in which the man from an outlying province, driven 
to earn a living in a city, may meet his brother exiles 
and water the national dish with tears. This of course is 



136 HOME LIF'E IN SPAIN 

mere poetic licence on the writer^s part : they do nothing 
of the kind, being well content to wash it down with the 
best available wine — or cider, if they be Galicians or 
Asturians — while they speak with profound contempt of the 
barbarous city in which their lives are set, and look hope- 
fully to the time when they will shake the dust of the 
accursed place from off their alpargatas (sandals) and re- 
turn to their native land. This expression is used advisedly. 
To the Valencians the Sevillians and the Galicians forced to 
earn a living in Madrid — Valencia, Seville, and Galicia are 
the native land, Castile is a country of exile, and the same 
remark, mutatis mutandis^ applies to strangers in every big 
city of Spain. 

The comparative absence of clubs helps to keep the 
Spaniard devoted to his home. He is a good husband and 
father. Should business permit, he is not ashamed to go 
to market with his wife and carry her parcels for her ; he 
takes her to the theatre as often as he can, and will ac- 
company her when she pays calls, the late hour of receiving 
guests in Spain enabling him to do this when the day*s 
work is over. On Sunday he will take his wife and children 
to picnics in the country, or, if his means permit, they will 
all go together to the bull-fight, where he will have the 
pleasure of seeing his little nine-year-old daughter clapping 
her hands with joy at sights that would make many a 
healthy Englishman ill. 




CxIRL IN BULL-FIGHTER'S COSTUME WITH WHITE MANTILLA 

FROM THE PAINTING BY J. CASADO 



CHAPTER XI 

THE FERIA 

SPAIN is full of saints, the efficacy of whose intercession 
is not to be understood or appreciated by the un- 
initiated. South of the Pyrenees even the atheist has his 
patron saint, and the Virgin Mary takes a special name 
and special attributes from the city with which she has 
some particular association. It has been mentioned that 
there are Virgins of Saragossa and Seville, among many 
others. Santiago de Compostela has St. James, the Patron 
Saint of Spain, and, in addition to these outstanding figures, 
there are countless saints and virgins of merely local 
sanctity and repute, whose intercession in times of trouble 
is most efficacious. They must be closely related — albeit 
of another faith — to the saints one encounters on a journey 
through Morocco. Strictly to be accurate one does not 
encounter the saints ; it is their tombs that are met — zowias 
is the Arabic title. These, consisting of a white domed 
shrine, standing within four whitewashed walls and fiercely 
throwing back the intolerable glare of the African sun, 
shelter the remains of a holy man whose deeds are obscure, 
and whose name is known only to those who appeal for 
charity on the ground that they are descended from him. 
But if a saint's shrine in Morocco is a place of pilgrimage, 
a saint's city in Spain is no less honoured. Indeed, it may 
be said that Spain is even more generous in the matter of 

137 



138 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

offering tribute to saints, for there are few cities that do 
not boast an annual feria which, as far as theory is con- 
cerned, is always held in the local saint's honoi^r. The 
hold of a patron saint upon the Spaniard is really extra- 
ordinary. Sarasate, the famous violinist who died quite 
recently to the unending regret of lovers of brilliant playing, 
was a native of Pamplona in Navarre, and he was seldom 
known to miss the feria held annually in that city in 
honour of San Fermin. He would go down to his old 
home and play in public that his fellow-townsmen might 
dance the Xoc'oXjota^ just as though he had achieved no 
greater success than falls to the wandering guitarrero of 
Andalusian by-ways. For that week at least the world- 
famous violinist was as simple a child of nature as any 
of those who honoured Pamplona's patron saint, and the 
applause of his old friends was dearer to him than the 
plaudits of London, Paris, or New York. 

In the city where the feria is held, the cathedral or 
chapel is of course the point of special interest. Images of 
the saint or virgin, executed quite roughly in plaster or 
mud, find a ready sale, and they are generally sold with 
the similar copy of a leading matador or politician. Pre- 
sumably the saint is expected to look after the country's 
spiritual welfare, while the political health is in the keeping 
of the politician, and the traditions that the Spanish popu- 
lace regard as Spain's highest and best are entrusted to 
the torero. Moreover, there is economy in buying saint, 
statesman, and bull-fighter together : you can purchase the 
three for the price of any two bought separately. At the 
booths in the immediate neighbourhood of the cathedral 
toys of all kinds, artificial flowers, fruit, pastry, and sweets 
of every description meet with a ready sale. Even the 
toys that are known by the rude title of '* kill-the-mother- 



THE FERIA 139 

in-law '* {inata suegra) rejoice in the additional qualification 
" del santo " — of the saint, though presumably the saint's 
mother-in-law is not alluded to. The light-hearted visitors 
are so heavily laden with purchases at the close of the day, 
that tramcar and railway carriage look like a shop. In 
the brilliant colour scheme which prevails, one notices 
that red and yellow are always to the fore, presumably 
because they are Spain's national colours. 

A fair is of annual occurrence and lasts from three days 
in a village up to a fortnight or more in a very large town. 
Where the municipality has money to spend, it issues a pro- 
gramme of entertainment covering each day ; the railway 
companies run what they are pleased to call excursion trains 
at rates so low that the most ill-tempered traveller can 
hardly summon up courage to complain merely because he 
is packed like a herring in a barrel and the tren botijo does 
not happen to be on speaking terms with punctuality. 
But it is impossible to be surly when you go to the fair, 
for everybody is so supremely happy. The tren botijo 
derives its name from the botijos or earthenware bottles 
holding water, that are slung outside the carriages in order 
that they may be kept cool by the current of fresh air. 
When the journey has started, pleasant relations are estab- 
lished between all members of the tightly packed company. 
Every man has brought his pigskin bottle of rough wine — 
a wine that threatens to take the skin off the palate of 
those who have not learned to love it. Men will not 
always provide themselves with food, because when one 
has cigarettes and wine it is possible to go a long time 
without feeling hungry. But the women are more careful, 
and there is hardly a railway carriage in the tren botijo that 
does not hold sufficient garlic to flavour all the salads that 
are eaten in London on a summer day. Sausages, sand- 



140 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

wiches, omelettes, bread that would be more popular among 
those who have little Spanish blood if it were a little less 
sour — these constitute the main sources of food supply, and 
are handed round freely to perfect strangers. The pigskin 
wine bottle passes from one honest mouth to another with 
a fervent con salud until its generous proportions are shrunk 
and the last sub-acid drop has been drained. Then some- 
body produces a guitar — perhaps a couple are forthcoming 
— very little tuning is necessary and the players strike up 
a local air or a national song in which one and all join 
heartily. So, to sounds of merriment and happiness, as 
real as brief, the tren botijo drags its slow length across the 
country-side, while the signal women in their little huts by 
the railside wave a hand in greeting, or lift up their little 
children to catch a glimpse of the merriment. What matter 
then if the heat be wellnigh intolerable, if the carriages are 
innocent of springs and the seats are hard as though they 
had been carved, not too carefully, out of stone. No 
measure of unaccustomed comfort would add to the happi- 
ness of the merry crowd that has forgotten all its troubles 
in honour of Xki^feria and its saint. The same good spirits 
prevail at night : your Spaniard tires but he does not sulk, 
and he is as gentle with his women folk when he is going 
home as when he is setting out. Some of those who 
indulge in popular amusement on Bank Holiday in England 
might take a lesson from the Spaniard. 

Of late years a certain industrial interest has been added 
to \}s\Q.feria^ and large manufacturers, anxious to show their 
wares, set up stalls in the neighbourhood of the booths. 
Pedlars, horse-dealers — the smartest rogues in Spain — 
wandering minstrels {guitarreros\ travelling companies of 
gipsies whose ancestral home is probably Granada, farmers 
with whiskers on which you might strike a match, or with 



THE FERIA 141 

which, detached from their owner, you might sweep a grate, 
the most picturesque beggars in the world, bull-fighters of 
local celebrity, travelling companies of actors who will give 
several performances every day and devote to rehearsal the 
" hours of fire " {horas defuegd) when the most ardent of 
their patrons are in search of a little shade, women of all 
ages whose costumes, however poor in quality, are worn 
with a taste and nicety unapproached by any other women 
in Europe — all lend charm to a scene that invites men of 
every clime and temperament who wish to see real happi- 
ness. There may be — indeed there are — times when the 
Spaniard seems, for all the sun in which his life is set, to 
be a melancholy man. But when you see him at \h^feria, 
you realize that he has his hours of mental as well as of 
physical relaxation. 

As has been remarked, nearly every Spanish town has 
its special food or sweetmeat, and at fair times there is a 
very brisk demand for these. Visitors buy them in great 
quantities, not only to eat but to take away with them ; 
some are so venturesome as to entrust packets of the good 
things to the custody of the local post office, though they 
must know very well that the officials in charge will send 
away just so much as they cannot eat or give to their 
relatives. On the campo the merry-go-rounds are set up, 
and there solemn men and women of middle age, who pass 
fifty-one weeks of the year at hard labour in the fields, relax 
the severity of their lives. They are arrayed in their best 
clothes {traje de fiesta)^ only to be used when they celebrate 
a birth, marriage, or a death, or when they take their annual 
holiday. It would be idle to say that they look at their 
ease or their best in these garments, and when they come 
for the first time to the campo, they are profoundly con- 
scious that they are honouring a great occasion to the best 



142 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

of their ability. But the merry-go-round avails to take 
the starch out of their gait and their garments ; they be- 
come simple children of nature once again. The campo is 
thickly strewn with picnic parties, and beggars and gipsies 
have a happy time while the merienda is in progress, for 
when the huge bota has gone freely round, the fortune-teller 
can find custom, and her numerous half-naked offspring can 
enjoy a feast such as seldom falls to their lot outside fair 
time. The guitar that did service in the train must work 
once more, and the feast ends in a sing-song. Then the 
worthy provider of the entertainment will probably re- 
member that in his capacity of Spanish citizen he has a 
serious grievance against the Government or local autho- 
rities, and he will spare an hour to proceed to the local 
Government offices or town hall and enter a complaint 
against somebody for having done or failed to do part of 
his duty. There is no malice in this action : it is merely 
a compliance with a long-standing custom that serves to 
remind the Government, whatever it may be, that even a 
feria cannot make it popular with any self-respecting son 
of Spain. There is another duty that must not be forgotten, 
and that is "Besar al santo ". The worthy patron of the 
fair feels that it is part of his business to kiss the figure 
or relic of the town's patron saint in whose honour the 
function is held, and although the act does not possess the 
smallest religious significance for him, he never omits it, 
knowing that if he did, the whole entertainment would 
lose its efficacy. 

There are countless side-shows at the feria^ but it is 
impossible to deal with all of them within reasonable 
limits of space. They vary too according to the district, 
for Spain's regionalism affects the/m<3: as it affects every- 
thing else. But in many of the fairs, particularly in the 



THE FERIA 143 

south, we find the Arena de Gallos or cockpit, and though 
cock-fighting is tending to disappear in many parts of Spain, 
it is too interesting to be overlooked. The sport is carried 
on in a place that looks like a Plaza de Toros in miniature ; 
there is a small arena in the centre and a range of benches 
all round it. Some cockpits will hold a couple of hundred 
people or more, and the charge for admission is generally 
one peseta. The presence of a member of the Guardia 
Civil by the entrance demonstrates the fact that a paternal 
Government finds it necessary to regulate the proceedings, 
and for reasons the writer has been unable to fathom, 
women are not admitted. The audience consists for the 
most part of farmers, horse-dealers, bull-fighters, and non- 
descripts, and betting is carried on briskly while each fight 
is in progress. The birds are very carefully bred and pre- 
pared. When they first go into training their combs are 
cut close to the head, their necks are stripped to the crop, 
and their spurs are sharpened, but are not steel-shod as is, 
or was, the custom sometimes in England. About ten 
couples are matched : the arrival of the first pair is greeted 
very loudly, and bets begin to pass at once. The birds 
are brought in by two attendants, waved gently in the air 
half a dozen times and then set down facing each other ; 
there is no delay. Each cock stretches his long bare neck 
in the direction of his opponent, as though it were a rapier, 
and they join with a sharp rattle of wings from which all 
save the primary quills have been removed. The fight is 
full of interest, and has no offensive aspect, for the birds 
are evenly matched and are as keen as race-horses. Each 
one aims at the other's head, and a bird whose comb had 
not been closely cropped would stand no chance at all, 
for the blood from the first wound would trickle on to its 
eyes and leave it at the mercy of its opponent. Even 



144 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

under existing conditions this trouble sometimes arises, 
and then the wounded bird thrusts its head between the 
wing and breast of its opponent to clear away the blood 
by the aid of the soft downy feathers that have not 
been removed. Fighting cocks live game and die game, 
and when one falls the victor stands on his prostrate body 
and crows with all his might, sometimes falling dead as he 
does so. But though dead he is the victor, and those whose 
money was on his opponent hasten with curses loud and 
deep, directed not so much against the loser as against the 
Government and the Pope, to throw their losses to the 
winner. I have heard the late Leo XIII most foully 
abused by those who have lost money on a game cock, 
though the precise responsibility of His Holiness was not 
apparent to the uninitiated. Heavy silver duros whiz 
across the arena, so deftly thrown and so deftly caught 
that every piece seems to reach its destination. There is 
a buzz of excited conversation in which the actions of the 
victor and vanquished are freely criticized, and then the 
attendants bring in the next couple and the courses are 
resumed. 

Somewhere in the immediate neighbourhood of the 
Arena de Gallos you will find a man in charge of the fight- 
ing cocks which have been carried to the arena in flat 
wicker baskets. Victorious birds that have survived their 
encounter are brought to him as he sits at a table spread 
with some bottles, feathers, and a sharp knife. He ex- 
amines wounded birds with an expert eye. If one is not 
badly hurt he rubs lotion on its wounds, dips a long feather 
in some restorative and thrusts it right down the bird's 
throat. This strange action seems to be wonderfully 
efficacious ; the cock that seemed to be in articulo mortis 
recovers his spirits and is carried off to his basket crowing 



THE FERIA 145 

lustily. When there is no hope the custodian of the birds 
leaves bottles and feathers alone, takes up the keen-edged 
knife, and the blood that was left in the unfortunate fighting 
cock flows into the pail by his side. 

As we have already remarked, cock-fighting tends to fall 
from its high estate in Spain, but in the remote country 
districts many a farmer keeps a few birds, often bred from 
English stock, on his granja^ and will invite those of his 
friends who are foolish enough to believe that their birds 
are as good as his. There is, or used to be, in the Arrebola 
of Seville a well-equipped Arena de Gallos where cock- 
fights were held every Sunday morning at half-past nine — 
presumably that winners and losers alike might go when 
the courses were over to return thanks or ask for better 
luck at the shrine of Her of the Dolours. This may seem 
a little irreverent, but nobody who knows the Spanish 
mood can have failed to see how closely superstition is 
associated with the most ordinary acts of daily life, and 
how it even enters into sport. 

Throughout the week of Wx^feria^ bull-fights on the most 
lavish scale possible serve as an attraction every afternoon. 
The best bulls and the finest matadors are specially re- 
served for the saint's own day, while on the closing of the 
fair there is a corrida de novillos during which the excited 
populace frequently climbs over the barricade to lend a 
hand in the closing stages of the ghastly business. It is a 
strange and sudden revelation of a blood-lust from which 
no Spaniard among the lower orders seems to be altogether 
exempt, and to those of us who look upon the entire pro- 
ceeding dispassionately, this corrida de novillos is a stain 
upon a holiday that has been enjoyed in a spirit of kind- 
ness and consideration. When the last wretched novillo 
has completed his hard journey out of life, the/m^ is at 
10 



146 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

an end. To be sure, a few may linger until the night, but 
the booths are being dismantled — gipsies, fortune-tellers, 
tramps, beggars, itinerant minstrels and the rest have gone 
their way to tramp over fragrant roads and sleep under the 
stars. The tren botijo is waiting for the others, the hour of 
leave-taking has come, the yearns holiday is over. Yet 
another day and the little town buried in the heart of 
brown sierras or lost amid the wide spaces of some vast 
plain, will have recovered its normal aspect. Only the 
residents will parade the streets through whose pavements 
the grass rises unrebuked ; the shopkeepers, once more 
indifferent to custom, will retire to the shadiest depths of 
their tienda, the virgin or saint in whose honour Xh^feria 
is held, will be worshipped only by the faithful few, her 
festive garments and imitation jewellery carefully removed 
by loving hands, and the feria will have passed so far 
away that not even the faintest echo of its joy can reach 
the city of its recent celebration. 




< 

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2 

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CHAPTER XII 

THE SPANIARD'S SUMMER HOLIDAY 

WHEN full summer gives to life in a Spanish city- 
some suggestion of purgatory on earth, every 
family that has a little money makes haste to take a holi- 
day. Those in whom blue blood is not allied to filthy 
lucre find themselves in the awkward position of being un- 
able to go away for lack of means, and unable to remain 
where they are lest their friends should despise them and 
point them out with the finger of scorn as members of the 
class that cannot afford to take a holiday. Now is the time 
for a little diplomatic deception of the kind that is so often 
associated with poverty and long descent in Spain. The 
cursis, as these harmless pretenders are called in Spain, 
announce that they are going to some fashionable seaside 
place and invite their friends to attend their departure at 
the railway station. After affectionate leave-taking the 
train moves off, and the cursz^ alighting at the first village 
at which the train stops (Pozuelo, in the case of Madrid), 
lies perdu until the close of the summer season brings rank 
and fashion back to the capital. Reference to the daily 
papers has sufficed to keep the cursi in touch with every- 
thing that has taken place in San Sebastian, Portugalete 
or the other fashionable watering-places to which they 
have gone only in imagination. A strange and pitiful 
deception this, and useless too, since it does no more to 

147 



148 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

deceive people than the banquets given to themselves by 
distinguished nobodies in the big cities. A strange snob- 
bery indeed, but not without a certain element of pathos 
as a device which is one of the last laps in the desperate 
race to keep up appearances, and to hide poverty from 
curious eyes and cruel tongues. These are to be found in 
Spain as elsewhere. 

Even apart from the poor snobs who attempt so deliber- 
ately to deceive, there are countless instances in Spain of 
old families, once as wealthy as they are noble, who now 
live in their casa senorial and have taken poverty to be 
their only friend. Their blood is far too pure, their es- 
cutcheon far too noble for them to admit to their ranks the 
sons and daughters of the outer world. Within the ances- 
tral walls they live a dim life in which piety and semi-starva- 
tion play the leading roles. Furniture, ornaments, and even 
clothes are wellnigh impossible to replace. In a country 
where living is extremely cheap, the question of an adequate 
supply of food and firing is one of gravest concern to these 
impoverished ones, and the family literally lives and dies 
within its own narrow boundaries. Holidays are unknown, 
outside interests scarcely exist even in name. The sons 
and daughters do not marry because they will not marry 
out of their own class, so the sons remain bachelors while 
the daughters stifle their lives in the shadow of the Church. 
The tragedy of these lives has been the theme of some strik- 
ing Spanish novels and plays, including Galdos' " Mariucha ". 
In progressive Catalonia where young commerce raises its 
head and is prosperous and unabashed, there is a perceptible 
movement in the direction of a healthy change, and many 
old families have, in Byron's picturesque phrase, ** ruined the 
blood but much improved the breed ". Well-dowried brides, 
sometimes from a commercial house but more often from 



THE SPANIARD'S SUMMER HOLIDAY 149 

overseas, have brought the assistance necessary to restore 
the faded fortune of noble houses, but Castile and Aragon 
look out upon the present through the eyes of the past — 
eyes that pride and prejudice have dimmed. 

Turning back not without relief to summer holidays, it 
is possible to discuss and describe more healthy conditions 
of national life. Regionalism plays its inevitable part in 
the choice and occupation of summer holidays, and we find 
that Spaniards may be divided very roughly into two classes ; 
the first consisting of those who rely for their holiday upon 
the feria of their native town, and those who spend the 
veraneo at some seaside place or go away to the mountains. 
If it be remotely possible to go to San Sebastian or Biarritz, 
which correspond in their fashion to Cowes in the yachting 
season, the Spaniard on the fringe of society will not 
hesitate to incur a heavy load of debt in order to get there. 
In San Sebastian, where the King has a summer palace, life 
is intensely cosmopolitan, and does not yield in point of 
gaiety to any seaside resort in Europe. It may even be 
said to challenge comparison with Monte Carlo in March 
and April. In addition to the yachting, the feria, the 
corrida de toros, and the entertainments at the Casino, 
there is one long and seemingly endless round of pleasur- 
ing to suit all tastes, and the gaiety is heightened by the 
presence of leisured idlers from all the great capitals and 
provincial cities of Europe. The wealthy Spanish families 
that leave Madrid for their country estates at the close of 
the season, do not fail to shed the lustre of their presence 
if only for a week or two upon San Sebastian or Biarritz. 
And it must not be forgotten that it would be hard to find 
throughout the length and breadth of Spain a city more 
happily set, more delightfully built or more fortunate in 
surroundings. 



ISO HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

Next in importance to San Sebastian and Biarritz— the 
latter is situate in France — is Portugalete, near Bilbao. 
This charming little seaport owes its prosperity partly to 
the great wealth of the Bilbao merchants and partly to 
its own natural attractions ; it is the head-quarters of the 
first yachting club in Spain, and when the race week comes 
round, King Alfonso, who is an enthusiastic yachtsman, 
motors across from San Sebastian and stays at Portugalete 
until the last race is run. 

Perhaps on account of Queen Victoria's liking for the 
mountain air. La Granja, in the Province of Segovia, has 
come very much to the fore in the past few years. In the 
days of *^ Ferdinand the Desired," Goya's blackguard patron 
who did so little for the Spain that did so much for him, 
La Granja was in high favour, and, in the days of Isabella, 
the Revolution was proclaimed from the royal palace that 
stands in such splendid retirement in the shadow of the 
high hills of Guaderrama. The wealthy classes who do 
not care for the seaside, and feel sufficiently independent 
to go where they please, have villas at La Granja, which 
is happily situated for rural entertainment. The fountains 
in the Gardens of La Granja are perhaps the most beautiful 
in Europe, and on a certain day in the summer, the day of 
La Granja's patron saint, all the fountains are in play, and 
the public is admitted to enjoy the beauty in the palace 
gardens. Excursion trains from Madrid bring thousands 
of visitors to celebrate the occasion, leaving them at Segovia, 
generally in the small hours of the morning, to reach La 
Granja on foot or in hired carriages. The wealthy Madri- 
lefio, freed from all restrictions of speed, runs out from 
Madrid to La Granja on his motor-car, and the journey 
that the tren botijo takes six hours to accomplish, takes the 
motor-car no more than an hour and a half. This style 



THE SPANIARD'S SUMMER HOLIDAY 151 

of travelling suits the official classes admirably, for when 
summer comes to Madrid, hard-worked officials — if there 
be any in Spain — leave their labours soon after midday 
when all the public offices are closed. 

Officials whose salary is but moderate, together with the 
rank and file of professional men and the burguesia^ cannot 
spend the veraneo in the exclusive neighbourhoods that have 
just been described. They are content to seek relaxation 
either in the smaller provincial towns on the coast, or in 
some of the delightful villages that are spread haphazard 
along the Bay of Biscay, or they go to the rias of Galicia, 
which correspond in most charming fashion to the fjords of 
Norway. Life in these places is one long round of simple 
pleasures. There is generally a casino of sorts — it looks 
like a cafe very much out of repair — and acquaintances are 
made without formality. An introduction to any family that 
is well established in the social set places all the pleasures of 
the district before the stranger : he is a welcome guest at 
every picnic and excursion, and if he chance to be a sports- 
man, he will find himself in congenial surroundings. There 
is nearly always some local landlord who is devoted to the 
gun and is quick to welcome the stranger who is a keen 
sportsman and is well recommended. Sport varies in quality, 
and ranges from the pursuit of the shy deer and the savage 
tusker (in Asturias) down to modest rabbit shooting, which 
is the special delight of the middle and lower classes. How 
game manages to exist in a country where every man who 
has no land of his own poaches that of his neighbour's, 
where game laws seem to be conspicuous by their absence, 
and you can buy roast partridge in the railway stations half 
way through June, is one of the questions to which no solu- 
tion is forthcoming. Friar Tuck has left some descendants 
in Spain. Perhaps he shrived some fair Spanish penitents 



152 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

who chanced to be passing through Sherwood Forest, but 
be that as it may — and the writer has no desire to pry too 
curiously into matters with which he has no concern — the 
fact remains that many a village cura is a notoriously fine 
shot and indifferent to seasons, seeming to hold that the 
better the day the better the deed. 

Fishing in the rias of Galicia is very good, though it may 
not compare with the trout-fishing in the Basque Provinces. 
But it has the double advantage of attracting equally the 
lover of sea line and the lover of the river rod. Many 
Englishmen who have stayed in the rias of Galicia imitate 
Brer Rabbit, *' They lie low and say nuffin' '* — content to 
return year after year and enjoy such fishing as they could 
only obtain in British waters at an expense possible to rich 
men alone. Naturally enough they keep their discovery to 
themselves ; they have no wish to find a crowd where they 
left comparative solitude. 

No man who is anxious to learn something of local 
Spanish customs should miss the chance of taking a summer 
holiday in turn in the rias of Galicia, the mountains of 
Aragon and Navarre, or the vine-lands of Malaga. Spain's 
regionalism will ensure for him different surroundings, 
thoughts, and customs in each district, and as far as expense 
is concerned the outlay, exclusive of the journey out and 
home, is absurdly small. The bachelor who knows some 
Spanish and cannot live en prince on six pounds a month, 
even in these days when the English sovereign is worth little 
more than twenty-five pesetas, must be but a foolish fellow. 
In return for this small expense he will get countless glimpses 
of old Spain, the Spain that seemed to disappear from history 
when Goya laid down his brush. It lies beyond the reach 
of the average tourist ; his circular tickets and hotel coupons 
take no note of it ; the tren correo passes it by, the leading 



THE SPANIARD'S SUMMER HOLIDAY 153 

journals have nothing to say about it. But whether it lie 
north, south, east, or west, it is a fascinating region full to 
the brim of hospitality, good-fellowship, and local colour. 
Rich in beautiful scenery and quaint costumes that dwellers 
in the big cities never see ; wealthy in a store of folk-lore 
and folk-songs that have yet to be given to the world, and 
stiniulating even to the traveller who has visited all the 
places that come within the range of the average well- 
travelled man. There may be other parts of Europe, par- 
ticularly in the near East, where life is not less intensely 
local, but one will look in vain there for the hearty welcome, 
the boundless hospitality and the freedom from trouble 
arising out of feuds that continue from generation to genera- 
tion and give perennial licence to unrest Tranquillity is 
the keynote of holiday in the remote country districts of 
Spain, and the tourist who knows his Borrow will take keen 
pleasure in noting how small and insignificant are the 
changes that have come over the country since the author 
of " The Bible in Spain '' rambled over the same ground. 



CHAPTER XIII 

CAFfiS AND RESTAURANTS 

THK /onda is the Spanish hotel that comes near to enter- 
ing the ranks of those that attract foreign custom, 
but never quite succeeds in doing so. The name is Arabic 
rather than Spanish, and corresponds with the fandak or 
caravansarai of Morocco. Here one finds no attempt to 
vary the regional convention of Spanish cooking ; oil plays a 
large and important part, garlic holds an honourable posi- 
tion, rancid butter is not rejected nor is sour bread despised. 
The Englishman who pays his first visit to an old-established 
Spanish /onda, and be it added that in many parts of Spain 
there exists nothing else in the way of hostelry, will find 
himself compelled, despite his appetite, to leave some dishes 
untouched, and to summon up a certain amount of moral 
and physical courage to enable him to approach others. His 
accommodation will not quite realize all the ideals or ambi- 
tions of the Sybarite ; he will not suffer from excess of atten- 
tion, though he will be treated with reasonable civility ; he 
may share his exercise in the courtyard with many types of 
Spanish wayfarer, including formidable-looking agriculturists 
with ample waistbands and a wealth of black whisker which 
gives them a peculiarly ferocious appearance and sends the 
tourist flying to his Baedeker to assure himself once again 
that there are no brigands left in Spain. But if the quality 
of the fondds entertainment is not high, the prices do not 
rise above its level, and most travellers when they have paid 

154 



CAFES AND RESTAURANTS 155 

their bill will agree, all things considered, that they have had 
value for their money. 

The posada corresponds to the English hotel in a county 
town, although it is not run on such pretentious lines and is 
not patronized by sportsmen. Spaniards, who have skins 
through which nothing can bite, a digestive apparatus that 
responds to the cooking of their own district, and a spirit of 
contentment that never leaves them while they have a packet 
of cigarettes in hand and a glass of wine within reach, thrive 
in the posada. The slow pace of its life has some fascina- 
tion for them, and it communicates itself in time to the 
Englishman who has learned to suffer little inconveniences 
without grumbling. Nobody hurries in the posada^ and 
time is of no account ; there is sun and there is shade ; those 
who are in the sun move slowly because it is too hot ; those 
who are in the shade move hardly at all because it is so cool. 
The master of the house, when he is not busily engaged lay- 
ing down laws for the political salvation of his country, 
may condescend to give an order or two for the benefit of 
some fresh visitor ; his voice rings out like that of a com- 
mander on the quarter-deck. Then you look for a short, 
tense period of extraordinary activity on the part of the 
household, but nothing happens, and the posadero resumes 
his political discussion as though he had left the fate of Empire 
trembling in the balance. Somewhere in the dim depths 
of the posada the maid of all work responds to some 
summons with a long-drawn out " Voy ! " (coming). But 
she never comes, and no Spaniard would expect her to come. 
Somewhere in the dining-room, which serves as a kitchen 
as well, there is a large fireplace presided over by an old 
Spanish woman, as completely smoke-cured, after half a cen- 
tury's cooking, as the best ham in all Galicia. She too moves 
with great deliberation : you cannot enter the posada at any 



156 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

hour in the day or any day in the year without finding her to 
all outward seeming completing the task that was in progress 
when you left. But she must do more than appears, for 
the household is fed and visitors are catered for, and some 
of them are men whose appetites would inspire a British 
agricultural labourer or commercial traveller with respect. 
Chickens have free right of entry into the posadds living- 
room ; they do not respect the bedrooms, and unreasonable 
visitors have been heard to complain instead of rejoicing 
because some industrious hen has laid an egg on their pillow. 
Even the pig, though nominally an exile from the guest- 
chamber, contrives to show his intelligent face there now and 
again, and throughout the low-raftered, stuffy chamber there 
is a curious odour that is seemingly compounded of stale 
tobacco, wine, garlic, leather, and lavender. You are con- 
scious of each m turn, but happily in the winter the lavender 
swallows up the others, and the situation is saved. Some 
of the Spanish posadas are of very great age, and preserve 
to this day their primitive simplicity. Ill-smelling oil lamps 
still provide the traveller with something that enjoys the 
courteous title of light when the day is done ; modern sani- 
tation is unknown ; effective ventilation is regarded with 
suspicion, and he who would venture to open the living- 
room window when the air within is so thick that you can 
feel the weight of it, would probably find that the window 
was not made to open, and that nobody else found the 
warmth intolerable. Perhaps one of the chief points of in- 
terest in ^^ posada lies in the fact that it brings the tra- 
veller face to face with such types as he will meet nowhere 
else — types that have not varied since the days when 
Cervantes saw them as he rested in the Posada de la Sangre 
in Toledo to write his " Ilustre Fregona ". Here is ample 
consolation for the intelligent traveller. 



CAFES AND RESTAURANTS 157 

From the posada to the venta is no far cry, for the venta 
is no more than a xodA'^i^^ posada^ a little point where the 
highways cross and men gather for a few hours to refresh 
themselves and exchange news of the world beyond. No 
shepherd's cot-house in the remote Scottish highlands is 
more lonely than the venta ; it is just a little spot in the 
heart of the plain or some distant hollow of the hill, known 
only to those whose life is cast in the world's waste places. 
For all that the venta stands deserted by patrons for days 
on end in the rainy season, it persists through the centuries 
so that the small house which serves your modest require- 
ments may have satisfied the still more simple needs of 
Santa Teresa herself. Designed originally with some little 
pretence to shapeliness that was soon forgotten, added to 
as the generations passed and some fortunate proprietor 
found himself with a few pesetas to spare, straggling over 
a large space of ground, decorated with a very tall chimney 
that serves as a landmark, being the last point of the building 
to fade from sight and the first to reveal itself on the horizon, 
often built of yellow sun-dried clay and whitewashed, the 
venta does not lack the quality of picturesqueness. Some 
long-forgotten proprietor — a man of more than common 
learning — gave it a name, and wrote that name phonetically 
in straggling letters that sprawl across the brow of his house 
in fashion suggesting that they have quarrelled and wish 
to be as far removed from one another as possible, but as 
ninty-nine per cent of the venta s patrons are probably 
unable to read or write, the title is safe from criticism. 

A huge courtyard surrounds the venta, which boasts one 
very large kitchen wherein a score of travellers may find 
refreshment and, if need be, sleep— for bedrooms are few 
and are occupied by the family, and those who would spend 
a night in the venta wrap themselves in their horse-blankets. 



158 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

commit their body to the hard boards and their soul to 
their patron saint, and snore with a ferocity calculated to be 
equally terrifying to robbers and evil spirits. Many and 
strange are the venta's visitors who seem to pass to and from 
the back of beyond. What loneliness of life is theirs that 
they should make the venta a meeting-house ; what silence 
has weighed so heavily on them all their days that even the 
unaccustomed gift of company cannot avail to oil the rusty 
hinges of their tongues? Their order given and a brief 
greeting exchanged, the teamsters and muleteers and 
ganaderos who constitute by far the greatest proportion of 
the venta' s patrons, become as silent as the land in which 
the house is set. Only towards night, when the surround- 
ing stillness is almost overwhelming, when the carts in the 
open courtyard borrow some mysterious whiteness from the 
reflection of the moonlight on the lime-washed walls, when 
horse or mule stirring in its stall seems to set one's nerves 
a-quiver, and the call of the cigarones from the tree-tops is 
so clear and shrill, a little conversation springs up, desultory 
and fitful as the wind that wanders over the plain, but in its 
way a tribute to the brotherhood and loneliness of man. 

Though the venta' s patrons pass and repass year by year, 
no man appears to know another's business or to entertain 
any curiosity regarding it. Life in the wide open spaces, so 
sparsely populated, seems to develop or retain the latent 
Orientalism of the Spaniard. To roll endless cigarettes, 
drink rough wine, sparingly to exchange a few words in 
tones that suggest preoccupation, greet the belated traveller 
with a swift glance and a brief nod, sleep for a few hours, 
and harness the team at break of day so as to be well upon 
the road before the hours of fire make travel slow and 
difficult — these are the only things that seem worth doing. 
The spirit of Spain's open places is a spirit of melancholy. 



CAFES AND RESTAURANTS 159 

There is no sadness, but there is a curious sobriety of mien, 
a strange absence of the joy of life. Perhaps when the 
feria comes round to the town nearest their home, these 
sober-visaged countrymen will join in the fun as heartily 
as any, but the mood of merriment will be short-lived. They 
are the product of centuries of silence and loneliness ; they 
have learnt to bear the extremes of heat and cold ; they 
have gained strength and self-reliance and endurance by 
sacrificing the spirit of conviviality and light-heartedness 
that is so often associated with the Spaniard by those who 
do not really know the Spanish country-side. Literally and 
metaphorically the venta and its strange clients stand alone 
in Spain, and they would seem to be well beyond the reach 
of time and change. 

Turning from the country to the town, we find a striking 
difference in the places of public entertainment. Nothing 
can be more gay in its own fashion than the taberna or popu- 
lar cafe of the lower orders, where the wine and spirits sold 
are adulterated to an extent that might well seem impossible 
in a land of vineyards. The tabernas consist for the most 
part of one long, low room sprinkled with bare tables at 
which the patrons drink their bad wine or vile spirits, in- 
cluding the notorious aguardiente — Spain's substitute for 
gin — and eat raw ham, garlic sausage, tripe, and tortillas 
— the potato cake, of which the exact method of making 
has been described already in another chapter. There 
is no music in the taberna^ but dominoes and cards are 
very popular, and in addition to such card games as tute and 
brisca there is a little indulgence, under the rose, in the 
forbidden delights of banca^ which is the same as the 
English game of bluff. It would be hard to say when the 
taberna closes its doors. Quite late in the night, when the 
most of a night-loving people have gone to bed, the lights of 



i6o HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

a taberna may be seen battling doggedly with the smoke of 
innumerable cigarettes, and quite early in the morning the 
workman on his way to his daily labours may be found seek- 
ing the refreshment afforded by a cup of weak tea or a 
small glass of crude spirit. Perhaps the house finds a few 
hours of rest during the extreme heat of the day when the 
place is left to the charge of one man who, on being called, 
rouses himself from uneasy dreams to say he is coming, and 
forthwith goes to sleep again. 

Another house of entertainment of still lower class is the 
bunshop, where at any hour of the night in a big city 
chocolate, coffee, milk, and cakes may be procured. Even 
these places have their hour of repute : respectable citizens 
of small means will take their wives there for a few 
moments on the road home from the theatre, but after one 
o'clock in the morning the gathering is not of a nature that 
commends itself to those who are careful of their company, 
and the police keep a careful eye upon the bunshops, 
substituting a heavy hand from time to time. 

There are plenty of cafes of the kind one knows in 
France, and the most of these boast a billiard-room, for 
billiards is a game at which the Spaniard excels. In the 
summer the little round tables of these cafes stretch out 
over the pavement, and the scene they present from sunset 
until one a.m. differs in no essentials from that which is 
familiar to the boulevardier. 

German influence is very strong in Spain, where many of 
the public works have been taken over in recent years by 
German commercial firms, and one of the most significant 
results of the German invasion is the beer garden or 
cerveceria. Even the Spaniard, long-suffering by tempera- 
ment and necessity, cannot endure for ever the adulterated 
wines and spirits that are offered to him in the taberna^ and 



CAFES AND RESTAURANTS i6i 

the light beers of Germany please him the more because 
there is very little strength in them. Quite insensibly 
perhaps he is being influenced by this new form of refresh- 
ment, and the scene in one of the beer gardens of Madrid, 
Barcelona, Bilbao, or Seville recalls Bavaria. 

If the writer were a poet, or if he could call the muses 
from Parnassus, or even invoke the shade of old-time Horace 
or the comparatively modern Herrick, he would devote all 
the inspiration obtainable to a hymn of praise directed to 
los pasteles de Espana (Spanish pastry). Travel where you 
may, north, south, east, or west, from the patissiers of the 
Paris Boulevards to the pastry-cook shops in the bazaars of 
Damascus, where the traditions of the Arabian Nights still 
linger, pass in review the famous confectioners of the world's 
most prosperous cities, and surely you will not hesitate in 
the end to pay the tribute of fullest appreciation to the 
handiwork of the Spanish /(^j-Z^/^r^. He is a mighty crafts- 
man, dearer to many of his countrymen than Velasquez or 
El Greco, the Escurial or the Patio de los Leones that is in 
Granada. The work of his hands is perfect, too subtle for 
analysis, too delicate for adequate expression of its fine 
shades save by some great artist who can use words or 
paint or set musical notes with the same delicacy and 
certainty of touch that \h.Q pastelero employs in handling 
cream, chocolate, preserved fruit and exquisitely flavoured 
and proportioned essences. 

Strange it is that in a country of coarse, national dishes, 
where garlic plays an important part in the national life, 
and uncooked meat is not regarded as an abomination, the 
delicate art of the pastelero should thrive and reach such a 
perfect state. Surely when the history of Spain comes to 
be written hundreds of years hence, we shall learn that the 
closing years of the nineteenth century and the opening 
II 



i62 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

decade of the twentieth were remarkable, less for the loss 
of the Philippines, the Spanish-American War, and the 
Anglo-Spanish Alliance than for the golden age of pastry. 
In the cool depths of the pastry-cook's shop, rank, fashion, 
and beauty assemble every afternoon, and to the accompani- 
ment of a light babble of conversation, the world's most 
wonderful pastry achieves its appointed end. It would be 
hard to say whether the pastry, the conversation, or the 
spray from the fountain that cools the air in many dipasteleria 
is the lightest. Some people drink sweet wine with their 
pastry, but this is a vile error that deserves correction at the 
hands of an Inquisition. Iced water is indicated, for this 
alone can clear the palate and make it properly susceptible 
to every fresh seductive influence. For those who take 
sweet wine or chocolate, the epicure can at best have no 
more than a small measure of pity mingled with a large 
leaven of contempt. Long may the pastelero thrive, wide 
may his fame extend, happy be his end and everlasting his 
fame. 

The restaurant as it exists in France is not popular with 
the rank and file of Spaniards, who prefer to offer their 
friends a simple meal at their own table rather than to take 
them to a restaurant where the national dishes may be man- 
handled by an unsympathetic cook. Here regionalism plays 
its part. In a cosmopolitan city you will find Castilians, 
Galicians, Aragonese, Catalans and the rest, each one with 
his faith pinned closely to the special dish of his district, and 
accepting as an article of faith the theory that no cook who 
is not one of his countrymen can present that dish in a satis- 
factory manner. The proprietor of a restaurant, though 
he have all the good intention in the world, cannot afford 
to carry regionalism into his kitchen, so he seeks to find a 
cook who can please all patriotic Spaniards, a task that 



CAFES AND RESTAURANTS 163 

would have baffled Soyer himself. Then again, a modern 
cook with a French training has an eye upon visitors from 
France and England and no respect for the sacrosanct 
Spanish belief that oil is far superior to butter. So the 
fashionable restaurant does not fare very well ; indeed, two 
or three suffice to serve the whole of Madrid, and these are 
patronized very largely by people who come to the capital 
from other countries in search of business or pleasure. 

Suburban restaurants are essentially Spanish in character. 
They are generally to be found in an ample garden filled 
with orange- and lemon-trees and sweet-smelling shrub- 
beries. There is a dancing-hall attached to them, and pro- 
vision is made for illuminating the gardens at night. If 
the restaurant possesses any points of vantage, such as a 
view over the high road along which the bulls are driven 
from tablada to Plaza de Toros on the night before a fight, 
pagodas are set up and here supper parties assemble to see 
the encierro, while the less fortunate patrons of the gardens 
must leave their supper and gather around the hedge 
separating their pleasaunce from the road. 

In Madrid, only a few years ago, there was a restaurant 
in the Ventas del Espiritu Santo whose proprietor could 
not afford his guests any glimpse of the encierro because 
the bulls did not come that way. But his garden over- 
looked the Campo del Este, one of Madrid's great burial 
grounds, so he put a large notice board up with the title of 
his house on the top and underneath the words ** con vistas 
al otro mundo " (with a view on the other world). One re- 
grets to add that the authorities compelled the enterprising 
man to remove the announcement of this added attraction 
and to compete unaided with his rivals. Small wonder 
that the Government enjoys perennial unpopularity when it 
can commit such an outrage as this. 



t64 home life in SPAIN 

The restaurants mentioned here are known in Spain as 
viveros^ and are the scene of the banqueting that plays such 
an important part in Spanish social life. When a man 
thinks he has achieved or deserved a reputation, a banquet 
is given in his honour. Not infrequently he pays all the 
expenses and provides the ample meal for those who feel 
that they can no longer live without honouring him. But 
the newspapers whose representatives are invited, view 
the proceedings with the eye of diplomacy, toleration, and 
benevolence, and in their report of the entertainment treat 
it as a spontaneous compliment paid by the countless ad- 
mirers of the worthy gentleman who has footed the bill. 
These little deceits deceive nobody and are good for trade. 

When the summer lays its scorching hand upon Spain 
the demand for cool drinks is universal. In park and 
garden, even in the streets, water is sold by the glass, and 
for those who have a few pence to spare there are countless 
refrescos (iced drinks). Barley water and lemonade play 
a considerable part in assuaging the national thirst ; but 
perhaps the most popular drink is horckata^ made with a 
certain bean flour called ckufa which is mixed with water, 
cooled with ice' and sucked through straws or wafers. Cone- 
shaped wafers {barquillos) are sold in the streets, and the 
buyer finds the number that he can purchase for a penny 
regulated by his luck. The seller carries a wheel with an 
indicator that can be turned round rapidly and stops in 
front of one of the numbers with which the disk is marked, 
and according to the number indicated the buyer takes 
his wafers. The cry of the barquillero is one of the few 
street cries left to modern Spain, and certainly the most 
popular. Pausing for a moment to deal with street cries, 
that of the flower-seller can hardly be forgotten by those 
who have heard it. The flower-seller drives or leads a 



CAFES AND RESTAURANTS 165 

donkey with paniers loaded with flowers in pots. " Flores 
vendo ! '' he cries, with a peculiar intonation impossible to 
set down without the aid of musical annotation. How the 
sound comes back to me as I write ! 

Another favourite summer drink is water that owes the 
opalescent tint beloved of the absintheur to a few drops ot 
aguardiente. Those who have a sweet palate often add 
an azucarillo — the popular Spanish cake, made with white 
of ^^^ and sugar. 

Old Spanish prints often show us some thirsty wayfarer 
holding an earthenware jar high above his head and 
allowing the water to fall down his throat without giving 
any work to the mouth. Inexperienced people who have 
never learnt this difficult art would probably choke if they 
essayed it, but a special providence watches over thirsty 
Spaniards who can empty a small botijo in this fashion 
without any effort. When all is said and done, agua 
fresca remains the Spanish national drink, and as the 
adulteration of wine and spirits proceeds apace, the 
Spaniard turns more and more to the one thirst-quencher 
that never fails. Perhaps the influence of Moorish occupa- 
tion is seen here too ; certainly the habit of water-drinking 
is the one Spanish custom that defies regionalism, extend- 
ing from the Basque Provinces to Malaga, and from 
Valencia to the frontiers of Portugal. 



CHAPTER XIV 

ETIQUETTE AND HOSPITALITY 

SPANISH etiquette is one of the most cumbersome 
burdens that any nation could be called upon to 
bear, and it must be put to the credit of Spain that she 
carries her burden lightly. Sometimes in the East one 
meets a beggar who is guarded against utter destitution by a 
very obvious physical defect or a disease that is too plainly 
in evidence. He does not repine but begs lustily from one 
and all, pointing proudly the while to his misfortunes. In 
his eyes perhaps they have ceased to be regarded as 
troubles ; they have become something that distinguishes 
him from other men, the means by which he lives and even 
thrives. One cannot help feeling at times that there is 
a certain definite association between the pride of the 
Eastern beggar in his deformity or disease and the pride 
of the Spaniard in an etiquette that hampers him at every 
time and serves no useful purpose. At the top of the social 
scale, in the Court of Spain, etiquette lies upon life like a 
blight, and although the day has passed when the man who 
chancing even by accident to touch the royal consort, in- 
curred the death penalty, yet there still exists in the govern- 
ing circles of Spain a system of meaningless etiquette that 
has an almost religious force in the eyes of the half-edu- 
cated and the superstitious. The old grandees of Castile 
— a remnant most forlorn of what they were, both in 

i66 



ETIQUETTE AND HOSPITALITY 167 

influence and wealth — guard all points of etiquette with 
a jealousy worthy a better cause, and they see to it that the 
royal burden is not lightened in any direction. The in- 
fluence of an English queen in the Palacio Real must needs 
make for some change, and King Alfonso has understood 
more clearly than most of his predecessors — one might say 
more than any exclusive of Charles the Fifth — that the 
dignity of ruling houses may be maintained without the 
prop of meaningless restrictions. Queen Victoria is re- 
ported to have rebelled against some of the regulations 
with, which she was faced, and possibly her early popularity 
was not strengthened by the contest. Attention was drawn 
to Spanish Court etiquette on the occasion of the royal 
marriage, and again when the Prince of Asturias was born. 
Enough was said in the leading papers on these occasions 
to give a hint to the observant of a condition of things be- 
longing more to the Orient than the Occident, to the Middle 
Ages rather than the twentieth century. It may be added 
that the Queen's acceptance of authority in matters of 
greater importance than etiquette has quite reconciled those 
who looked askance at her in the early days. 

Against the democratic spirit that has always existed in 
Spain, but is more in evidence to-day than it has ever been, 
the grandees have intrenched themselves behind a ram- 
part of perjuicios sociales. They are conscious perhaps of 
waning influence and diminishing significance in the scheme 
of things, and what they lack as a class in usefulness or 
attractiveness, they make up for in pride. They are not 
unsociable or ungenerous, uncharitable or inhospitable, but 
they live and act and talk as though Providence had been 
at pains to create the world in order to find a fitting habita- 
tion for the hidalgo of Spain. One of the worst results 
of this extraordinary class prejudice, which is founded so 



i68 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

largely upon megalomania, is physical deterioration followed 
in due course by some form of mental deficiency. A 
grandee's son can only marry a grandee's daughter; no 
fresh blood enters in to restore the rather thin blue stream 
of which its possessors are so inordinately proud. Inter- 
marriage too long persisted in brings about rapid degenera- 
tion of the species, and it may be said that the Spanish 
etiquette which leads to so much intermarriage is slowly but 
surely reducing no small part of Spain's aristocracy to 
mental and physical inferiority. Now and again a lady of 
title, who has buried a first husband selected for her from 
her own rank, will subject the prudent head to the influence 
of the susceptible heart and choose for a second husband 
a man whose perfection lies more in blood than breed. By 
her union with him she raises him to her own rank, though 
local wit rages furiously and scurrilous newspapers, of which 
there are not a few in Spain, make caustic comment. But 
perhaps as far as the next generation of the noble family 
is concerned, broad chests and strong limbs may be found, 
and some tendency to rank intelligent work nearly as high 
as dissipation. So it may be that the special recording angel 
who looks after the interests of Spanish grandees forgets to 
make a note of the mesalliance. 

The future of Spanish etiquette is brighter than its past, 
for it has lived in the past, and in the relatively near future it 
will die with the most of those who preserve it. Spain is 
still no more than a half-developed country with potenti- 
alities known only to the few. At present the grandees will 
not sell a square metre of land, and will do nothing to develop 
or encourage industries upon their vast estates ; they prefer 
to maintain vast preserves among an impoverished peasantry, 
and are supremely indifferent to the signs of the times which 
should teach them that a new spirit has entered their country 



ETIQUETTE AND HOSPITALITY 169 

and is spreading rapidly towards the centre and west from 
Catalonia. Already the national conscience is waking. 
It stands face to face with a scandal of first magnitude. 
The Castilian grandee must revise his policy in the course 
of the next generation, or must be prepared to part with a 
large share of his vast possessions for the good of a kingdom 
that cannot continue to rely upon emigration as the safety- 
valve if it is to retain its national prestige. When the 
grandee dies out, he will take his etiquette with him ; an 
ungrateful country will have no further use for the one or 
the other. Threatened men live long, and the Spanish 
grandee as the drone in the national hive, has often been 
threatened and abused. But down to the past few years 
there has been no force in Spain capable of shaking him from 
his place. To-day the case is altered ; the commercial 
development of Catalonia, and even Aragon, has created a 
new class of wealthy man, one that is alert and vigorous, and 
increases its fortune by putting money in all manner of sound 
business ventures instead of allowing it to lie in deposit 
at the banks. This new class, ostracised by the aristocrats, 
is largely concerned with preparing a republican programme. 
Happily or unhappily the regionalism that must be con- 
sidered in every outlook upon Spanish affairs, stands between 
Castile and the men who have ample means to voice their 
discontent. Catalonia prefers a republic to a monarchy, but 
would be still better pleased with a separate kingdom. 
Quite conscious that it stands for no small part of the brain 
and progress of Spain, it would like to pursue its own 
destiny, and if it could do so, Spanish etiquette would not 
be affected in any way but would reign in all its terror over 
the Castiles while it remained a dead letter in the east. It 
is not unlikely that, finding themselves quite unable to 
establish home rule in Catalonia, the very wealthy Catalans 



I70 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

will seek persistently to invade the high places of Madrid 
and that they will succeed in their endeavour. Should they 
do so, the rigorous etiquette which* prevails now will as- 
suredly be modified. Cervantes " laughed Spain's chivalry 
away," and Catalonia may yet do the same for its etiquette. 

Marriage among the upper classes is very largely a matter 
of private arrangement between the parents of the contract- 
ing parties. No Spaniard of high degree moves in any 
circle lying outside his own. Even university life is of little 
account among the aristocrats of Spain ; they may give one 
of the leading colleges, Madrid or Barcelona, for instance, 
the honour and labour of entering their distinguished names 
upon its books, but they would not trouble to attend long 
courses of lectures seeing that learning is at best no more 
than a middle-class accomplishment for the strenuous people 
whose veins are not refreshed by the sangre azul. Needless 
to say that the etiquette that rules Spanish marriage among 
the upper classes does not make the happy married life, but 
the Church has plenty of consolation to offer a wife, while 
the husband is generally able to console himself without 
the aid of the ecclesiastical authorities. At the same time 
the Spanish woman of whatever class is, as a rule, virtuous. 
There is a high standard of sexual morality among the 
women of Spain, and for this the Church is undoubtedly 
deserving of credit. 

Among the middle classes the etiquette that rules inter- 
course before marriage is quite curious. Girls are very 
closely guarded in Spain, though perhaps the custody has 
been known to prove ineffective. When Cervantes wrote 
his " Cuentos Morales " he emphasized the extraordinary 
power of physical attractions upon the Spanish heart and 
mind ; all the deserted wives of his stories retain their beauty 
to the end, and their physical attractions are the lure that 



ETIQUETTE AND HOSPITALITY 171 

draws their wandering husbands home. So it was in the 
Spain of Cervantes, so in a certain sense it would seem to be 
in the Spain of to-day. The opportunities for social inter- 
course are so few, girls are so strictly guarded, and the 
reputation of young men is so unsavoury, that the barriers for 
marriage would seem unsurmountable to the middle classes 
of any country but Spain. A daughter is nearly always in 
charge of her mother, and when her future husband sees her 
for the first time, he must be content to follow her home in 
order that he may find out her address and catch her glance 
on the way. If she be sufficiently interested and her mother 
approves of the first step, she will show herself upon the 
balcony and make some slight sign with which she recog- 
nizes the attention conferred upon her. For some little 
time the lover follows the lady when she walks abroad ; he 
spends a certain part of each day in the street, while she 
remains on the balcony, a ripening fruit still very much out 
of reach. There is less comment from the neighbours than 
might be expected, for all the married ones have been 
through the same performance, and know that age cannot 
wither nor custom stale its infinite variety. The lover 
scours the city to find somebody who can give him the 
necessary introduction to the house of his inamorata, and 
should he succeed, acquaintance improves apace, more par- 
ticularly if the lady's parents occupy the entire house or 
the ground floor ; in that case she can come to the heavily 
barred window and he can talk to her from the street. In 
the cities of Andalusia there are few streets in the resi- 
dential quarters in which you cannot see some amply 
cloaked lover in close conversation with a shrouded figure 
that shrinks away as a stranger passes, while the lover's 
cloak and sombrero seem to meet in order that he may 
remain unrecognized and undisturbed. This mild flirtation 



172 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

or sober courtship enjoys the curious title of plucking the 
turkey (J)elando el pavd). Perhaps those who gave the name 
to it can explain its significance. Happy love whose lady 
lives on the ground floor ! Unhappy Romeo whose Juliet is 
located on the fifth ! The street is still his portion, the 
balcony hers, and sweet nothings can neither rise nor fall 
through the intervening space. Like Juliet, " she speaks but 
nothing says," while he, poor wretch, must use the alphabet 
of the deaf and dumb and petition Providence to shorten 
the period of courtship. On stated days at certain hours, 
and in the teeth of countless restrictions, he will be per- 
mitted to call, but until the engagement has been officially 
recognized, his task is one of far greater difficulty than any 
of the ten that Hercules is said to have put to his credit. 
Even when the engagement is an accomplished fact the 
parents have a deciding voice in fixing the date of mar- 
riage, and they do not err on the side of short engagements, 
nor do they permit the affianced pair to pass more than 
the shortest possible intervals together without the presence 
of some ** shadowy third". 

Marriage, like everything else in Spain, pays tribute to 
regionalism, and may be said to vary in its ceremonial in 
every province of Spain. French influence is seen in the 
conduct of the ceremony among the upper classes, while 
the lower middle class, in the pursuit of its own purely 
local customs, is almost as extravagant in the conduct 
of a marriage as are our own lower classes in the matter 
of funerals. One of the special characteristics of the 
Spanish wedding is the presence and service of the sponsors 
who correspond to the best man, maid of honour, godfather, 
and godmother of our own country. But in Spain the 
office of sponsor is no sinecure : the sponsors are expected 
to contribute liberally to the expenses of the marriage 



ETIQUETTE AND HOSPITALITY 173 

ceremony, even if they do not defray them altogether ; the 
man must act as godfather to the first-born if it be a son, 
and the , woman as godmother if it be a daughter, and 
though these obligations are moral rather than legal, it is 
the custom of the country that they should be generally 
fulfilled. 

Among the lower middle classes where the ceremonial 
is not affected by French custom, the wedding procession, 
headed by bride and bridegroom, walks in slow state 
through the streets. If the bridegroom can produce a frock- 
coat for the occasion, he is regarded as a man of substance 
and importance, and if finances permit, the bride's black 
wedding dress will be made of silk. She wears the flower 
of the orange under the mantilla, and her women friends 
are also faithful to the beautiful national head-dress that 
the upper classes tend to neglect. Service over, carriages 
or the more modest tramcar serve to convey the happy 
party to one of the town's garden restaurants, where the 
wedding breakfast is taken and a certain measure of in- 
ebriety is deemed correct. A small amount of wine is 
spilt, for there is a Spanish belief that vino vertido produce 
alegria (spilt wine produces joy). May not this be some 
modern echo of the far-off custom of pouring out a libation 
to the gods. Spain received an early impress of the "gran- 
deur that was Rome" indeed, the Cathedral of Seville 
stands upon the site of a temple to Venus. The festivities 
of the marriage day last well into the night, by which time 
most of the revellers require a little friendly assistance to 
enable them to reach their homes. Wedding cakes are 
unknown in Spain, but when people are married or children 
are baptized, sugared almonds {almendras) are distributed 
among friends and sent in little packets to those who can- 
not be present. A visiting card accompanies them. 



174 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

In connexion with visiting cards it may be remarked 
that a gentleman's card bears in addition to his own 
Christian name and surname that of his mother's family, 
while the wife preserves her identity in fashion unknown to 
the rest of Europe, and bears upon her visiting card the 
name she has acquired and the name she was known by 
before marriage. 

There has always been some confusion in the minds of 
foreigners in regard to the use of the terms Sefior, Sefiora, 
Don, etc. And they are confusing, though when we come 
to consider them the Spanish forms are the most democratic 
in the world. 

The word " man " is hombre and " woman " (or wife) is 
mujer ; both terms can be used as familiar expressions of 
surprise, protest, etc. A gentleman referring to his wife 
speaks of her as his mujer or esposa (he is the marido), or 
gives her her title if she possesses one — but he never calls 
her mi sefiora. A third person refers to her in her husband's 
hearing as la senora and never uses the word m,ujer which 
would be impolite. Etiquette wills that the wife's name 
should not be mentioned frequently (excepting among 
intimate friends) , and this is a remnant of Islam's influence 
over Spain. There is no such familiarity as in other Euro- 
pean countries, and to this circumstance is due, I venture 
to think, the almost total absence of adultery in Spanish 
society, which in this regard can claim to stand almost alone 
in Europe. 

Among friends the lady in question is referred to as Dofta 
followed by her Christian name. The use of the Don and 
Dofia are most frequent in Spain. After having met Sefior 
Sanchez once you will call him Don Felipe, and as soon as 
you are on intimate terms with the family, his wife will be 
Dofia Dolores ; both sefior and seftora will disappear as 



ETIQUETTE AND HOSPITALITY 175 

titles, to be used only when writing or when accompanying 
a spoken sentence, such as " yes " or " no," etc. As in 
French, it is impolite to use the above without some other 
word as sefior, seilora, hombre, mujer — hijo or hija in case 
of a child. 

A gentleman is a caballero (knight), a lady sefiora, and a 
young lady seftorita. Sefiorito corresponds to our "sir" as 
used by inferiors. Young ladies are rarely called Dofia, as 
it is more appropriate for womanhood. Don and Dofia, 
used as titles, must invariably be followed by the Christian 
name ; sefior and sefiora (sefiorita) are used very little as 
titles, excepting when the Christian name is unknown or as 
a form of introduction ; in letter-writing it precedes Don or 
Dofia, followed by the Christian name, and it is as careless 
to omit the latter as it is the initial in English when the 
surname is followed by Esq. On the other hand, the 
Christian name cannot be preceded by Sefior or Seftora 
without the intervening Don or Dofia. 

Further, when speaking with a titled individual with 
whom you are not well acquainted, the form of address is 
seftor marques, etc., and sefiora duquesa, etc. Titles, in the 
order of their importance, are baron (baronesa) ; vizconde 
(vizcondesa) ; marques (marquesa) ; conde (condesa) ; mar- 
ques (with title of grandee) ; duque (duquesa). The last 
two, being grandees of Spain, have the prefix Excelent- 
isimo. Cabinet Ministers, senators, deputies, provincial 
governors, academicians, generals — besides a host of other 
people in the political hierarchy, who really have no right to 
the title but who are flattered by its use, receive it from 
those who wish to flatter. 

In the royal family the title of the King and Queen is su 
majestad or S.M. (plural SS.MM.), the Crown Prince (Prin- 
cipe de Asturias) is S.A.R. (H.R.H.), the sons and daughters 



176 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

of a monarch are Infante or Infanta with the title of S.A. 
(plural SS.AA.). The use of the Don and Dofia is of course 
general, hence Don Alfonso, Don Carlos, Dofta Victoria, 
etc. 

In the lower classes, and especially in the country where 
Christian names are relatively few in number, everybody 
has a nick-name {apodo\ preceded by some such expres- 
sion as tio (uncle) or tia (aunt); thus, for instance, as Tio 
Gallego, Tia Gorda, etc. 

Turning from etiquette to hospitality, the travelled man 
who enters into Spanish life for the first time will be struck 
by the extraordinary similarity between the hospitality of 
the Moor and the hospitality of the Spaniard. It may be 
urged that there is nothing surprising in this if we pause to 
remember how long and how widely the Moorish dominion 
over Spain was established. On the other hand, it should 
be remembered that the Spaniard has always been anxious 
to forget Moorish influence, and that when a Spaniard, speaks 
of his descent he is anxious to make it clear that his blood 
is quite free from any Moorish strain. But the influence 
of Morocco and Islam is still to be observed on every 
hand, in the cathedrals, in the country-side where the norias 
that the Moors introduced still serve to irrigate the thirsty 
land, in many a social ceremony, and above all, in the 
Spaniard's relations with friends. 

There is no better mannered man on this earth than a 
Spanish gentleman, and when he is extending hospitality, 
your Spaniard, rich or poor, is at his best. It is not the 
extent or quality of the hospitality that matters, it is the ex- 
quisite grace with which it is tendered, the implied sugges- 
tion that your comfort is the host's first consideration. 

Visits in Spain are paid either during the '* hours of fire " 
when the cool depths of a lofty room or the shady corner 



ETIQUETTE AND HOSPITALITY 177 

of a patio are so welcome, or at five o'clock in the afternoon, 
when the enemy — as the Moors call the sun — is loosening 
his grip upon the stricken city. Refreshments are always 
offered, sherry and cakes in the morning — the wine being 
served in the little glasses called chatos, while in the after- 
noon rich chocolate, that leaves you in doubt whether to 
eat or drink it, is served in small cups and taken with bis- 
cuits, followed by a glass of cold milk that serves to restore 
the palate to its normal state. Wine and chocolate play 
the same part in Spanish hospitality as coffee does in the 
East. 

The week-end has not yet reached Spain in the form of 
an established institution, but many travelled Spaniards, par- 
ticularly those who know our English custom, are develop- 
ing it. The picnic or merienda is a very favourite institution, 
and is associated with very charming simplicity. Elaborate 
meals, necessitating great trouble and preparation and care 
in carriage, are dispensed with ; one or two simple dishes, 
which are again affected by the ever-present regionalism, do 
all that is required, and are taken with the wholesome wine 
of the country. Goats are eaten throughout Spain, and one 
of the most favourite dishes at the merienda is a roasted 
kid {cabrito asadd)^ which is prepared in the open air, just as 
the Moors in the market-places of Morocco roast sheep in 
their portable ovens. There is a striking similarity in the 
way the food is eaten in both countries, conventionality 
being conspicuous by its absence. 

Birthdays are not celebrated very often in Spain, but 
every man and woman has a name-day, that is to say, the 
day of the saint after whom he or she is named, and when 
this day comes round, the happy owner of the name is ex- 
pected to extend hospitality in the form of cakes, sweets, 
wine, cigars, and cigarettes to all who offer congratulations. 
12 



178 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

Open house is kept on this dia del santo^ and as the man 
who has a large circle of friends will have several visits to 
pay whenever a popular saint's day comes round, he has 
no occasion to make any of his usual household arrange- 
ments. In fact, on the name-day of saints such as San Jose 
or Santiago, or the Virgin of the Dolores, after whom so 
many girls are named, the main thoroughfares are crowded 
with pastry cooks. 

In describing the tren botijo mention was made of the 
Spaniard's generosity in sharing his wine, and if necessary 
his food, with fellow-travellers. No Spaniard will light a 
cigarette in your company without offering you one and 
passing you a match, nor will he allow you to smoke your 
tobacco in his house, for you are his guest and he is the 
amo de la casa. In short, the instinct of hospitality seems 
to be born in the Spaniard, and he contrives when you are 
staying in his house to put you at your ease and leave you 
there. His formalities are never aggressive, his kindness 
seems to come from the heart, and the foreigner who enters 
Spain with a few good introductions will find it hard to 
outstay his welcome. 

The formulae of politeness claim attention here. When 
a Spaniard meets you for the first time he is quick to assure 
you that he kisses your hand and that he is your servant ; 
if you are a woman he places himself " at your feet " ; in 
signing his letters he calls himself " your very affectionate 
and trusty servant who kisses your hand " or " kisses your 
feet," and when he gives you his address it is with the for- 
mulae " in such and such a house and street you have a home 
and servant " ; when you visit him he says, " You have taken 
possession of your house," much as the Moorish gentleman 
says, " My house and all that is in it are yours ". The in- 
fluence of Morocco is seen again if you are so thoughtless 



ETIQUETTE AND HOSPITALITY 179 

as to express your admiration for something belonging to 
your host. He at once tells you that it is yours, and it 
is a pretty formula with which you reply as you return the 
proffered gift : " Keep it, I beg you, because it could not be 
in better hands than yours ". This, too, is Moorish in its 
origin. 

It goes without saying that much of this elegant discourse 
is formula and nothing more, more particularly in modern 
cities, and among those who do not feel the full force of 
their country's tradition. Spain, like the rest of the world, 
has its snobs and pretenders, and they are no less offen- 
sive in the Iberian Peninsula than they are elsewhere, but 
with the best type of Spaniard the old forms are no mere 
empty words. His hospitality and generosity are a part of 
his honour and the dearest thing in life to him, and the cath- 
olicity of his kindness may be gathered from the fact that 
Spanish has but one word, ""^ amigo^' to express both friend 
and acquaintance. It must not be supposed that Spanish 
hospitality is limited to those who can afford to dispense it. 
On the contrary, the very poor are delighted to do some- 
thing for a stranger who is sympathetic. It may be no 
more than a cigarette or a glass of crude wine, an orange 
or a handful of olives, but there is something in the way in 
which the gift is offered that magnifies its intrinsic value a 
thousand-fold. Even among those whose days are passed 
in ceaseless toil, who live far remote from the com- 
pany of their fellowmen, you find evidences of the inborn 
courtesy that is one of the most striking charms of the com- 
plex Spanish character. 



CHAPTER XV 

THE PLAZA DE TOROS 

SIXTEEN years or more have passed since the writer 
then Httle more than a boy, travelled from Lisbon to 
Madrid in company with a cuadrilla that had distinguished 
itself in the Campo Pequefto, near Lisbon, to the accompani- 
ment of the frenzied enthusiasm of the Portuguese. Re- 
verte and Bombita were the heroes of the hour, and their 
treatment of the toros ejnbolados had been as daring as it 
had been skilful. Nor had there been wanting a loud 
demand for at least one combat a outrance. Needless to 
say the Portuguese authorities refused to respond, and the 
writer had decided to seek in the Plaza del Triunfo the full 
expression of the corrida. The two matadors held some- 
thing akin to a reception at half a dozen of the stations at 
which the train stopped between the frontier station and 
the capital, but after all they did not exercise their skill in 
Madrid where the honours were divided between the great 
Espartero, then in the last year of his life, and D. Luis 
Mazzantini, lawyer, gentleman, and diestro^ who left the law 
for the bull-ring and has since left the bull-ring for the Council 
Chamber. A few weeks later the writer journeyed down 
to the south to see Guerrita in the great bull-ring of Seville, 
and travelled out to some of the bull-farms where the more 
historic herds are raised. In the country and in the cafe 
of the Emperadores on the Sierpes at Seville, he learned 
something of the theory and practice of bull-fighting from 

1 80 



THE PLAZA DE TOROS i8i 

the closely shaved, sinewy aspirants to honour, who sat 
through their hour of ease smoking cigarettes and telling 
how fields are won, their splendid coletas^ as their pig-tails 
are called, carefully twisted under broad-brimmed hats. 
Tastes change ; to-day the writer's desire to attend a bull- 
fight has been replaced by a still stronger desire to avoid 
one at any cost. If there was any pleasure in days of old 
that could atone for the sight of horses running round the 
arena and treading out their entrails, it has gone for good. 
But the splendid colour, the barbaric sounds, the glittering 
crowd, the ornate uniforms and the blinding light of a 
Spanish bull-ring in the hours of action will hold no small 
measure of fascination for all time, and inasmuch as bull- 
fighting is at once a science and the national pastime of 
Spain, it cannot be overlooked and calls for certain ex- 
planation in detail. 

The finest fighting bulls belong to herds that have their 
own stud-book and their own devisa in the form of a rosette 
that the doomed animal carries with it into the ring. The 
best farms are in the Utrera district where water is plentiful 
and the pastures are rich. There the young bulls are care- 
fully tended by ganaderos who watch over them night and 
day, guiding and controlling them from horseback with the 
aid of long poles. When the bulls are a year old they are 
tested, being attacked in turn by a horseman ; those that 
turn tail and run away change their status and become in 
due time the property of the butcher. Those that show 
fight and are " well armed " are named and entered in the 
stud-book. Plucky bulls that suffer from some physical 
defect which would prove a bar to their admittance to the 
first-class arenas of Madrid, Seville, Barcelona, and other 
cities, meet their fate while young at the inexpert hands of 
second-class matadors in some corrida de novillos. Their 



1 82 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 



1 



better-equipped companions pass a full three years on the 
farm in charge of the ganadero whom they come to regard 
as companion, friend, and master, and surrounded by belled 
bullocks in whose company they learn to travel at their ease. 
When at last they are brought in for some great corrida 
they make their way to the arena by night, the tame 
bullocks, their life-long companions, surrounding them, their 
ganadero in attendance. They are corraled in some spacious 
meadow not far from the city of their destination, and the 
supply of corn that has been given to them in such liberal 
measure for some weeks prior to their departure is well 
maintained. On the night before the fight they are driven 
along the road to the arena in the small hours, and every 
point of vantage on either side is crowded with spectators, 
while a great company of afficionados follows behind. Once 
within the prison walls each bull is driven into its con- 
demned cell and left without food or water for the fifteen 
hours that must elapse before the gates of the toril open> 
the devisa is thrust into its shoulder, and the bull furious 
with anger and with thirst, conscious of its enormous strength 
and eager for vengeance against mankind, rushes out into 
the light to see across the yellow sand, capadores and pica- 
dores awaiting the attack which ten thousand spectators or 
more are assembled to witness. 

In the theory of bull-fighting, the bull is always the 
aggressor, in practice he is known to sulk and sometimes 
to require the cruel stimulus of the banderillos de fuego. 
Should the hideous noise and his own burnt skin leave him 
still unwilling to attack his tormentors, he is promptly 
lamed by the aid of the media luna and stabbed by the 
puntillero, while the excited crowd curses the Government 
and the Pope, and yells for the blood of the administration. 
This happens but seldom. 



THE PLAZA DE TOROS 183 

The matador in charge of the cuadrilla responsible for 
the bull in the arena decides most of the questions that 
arise during the combat, but the judge who sits high up in 
the arena with trumpeters by his side has power to limit 
or extend the divisions into which the combat is divided. 
It is for him to say when the bull has killed a sufficient 
number of horses and has reached the point of exhaustion 
at which the banderilleros may take up their work with 
safety ; it is for him to decide when the matador's turn is 
reached, and the divisions in the combat are announced to 
the public by the shrill notes of the trumpeters stationed 
under the judge's box. By the time the matador has received 
from his attendant an espada and muleta (sword and small 
scarlet cloak) and has asked permission to kill the bull " in 
fashion that will confer honour upon the city," the arena is 
strewn with dead and dying horses, the bull's shoulders are 
pierced with lances and his horns are stained with blood to 
the head. The contest between man and beast is followed 
with keenest attention and deepest silence ; the diestro 
manoeuvres to bring the bull into position in which his 
forelegs will be close together ; if they are spread out at 
all there will be no free passage for the sword as it passes 
between the shoulders into the lungs. If the stroke be a 
successful one and the bull falls slowly to his knees, the 
air is rent with shouts, the matador walks off triumphant, 
while flowers, cigars, hats, and even billets-doux are flung 
to him from every side, and the puntillero, coming from 
behind the bull, puts an end to its agony with one swift 
thrust behind the head. Should several strokes miss, the 
matador is greeted with howls of derision ; the trumpeters 
sound a warning ; he must try again, and should he fail 
several times, he may even suffer the disgrace of seeing 
another matador summoned to complete his work, AvS 



1 84 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

soon as the bull is dead, a gaily decked team of mules is 
driven into the arena, the carcase is dragged off to be cut 
up in some neighbouring shambles from which the flesh, 
almost black and quite unfit for food, is sold to the lower 
orders of the populace. The mules return for the dead 
horses ; the red or blue coated attendants carry their sand 
baskets to and fro to cover up the purple patches plainly 
to be seen on the floor of the arena. The second cuadrilla 
replaces the first ; the trumpet sounds again, the gates of the 
toril are drawn back, and another splendid animal rushes 
to meet its doom. 

Bull-fighting brings about a heavy drain upon the Spanish 
exchequer, for in a comparatively poor country like Spain 
many men at the head of the profession draw incomes 
running into five figures. In the days of his greatest 
achievements Rafael Guerra (Guerrita), whose father was a 
butcher in the matadero of Cordoba, earned an annual income 
of a million pesetas. Don Luis Mazzantini was said to earn 
three-quarters of this amount, and when the Spanish diestros 
crossed the Pyrenees to give the people of Nimes, Dax, 
Aries, and Bayonne a taste of their quality, one of them, 
Reverte, if I am not mistaken, lighted his cigarette with a 
thousand-franc note, presumably to show that art and not 
profit was the object of his excursion. The bull-fighter 
must be a man gifted with fine physique, splendid nerve, 
sound judgment and complete use of all his faculties. He 
may receive his earlier training in the cuadrilla of some 
second- or third-rate matador and fight his way through the 
ranks unaided, or he may go to one of the escuelas de 
tauromaquia where great fighters now retired from active 
work labour among a rising generation as Royal Academi- 
cians in this country work at the Academy School. The 
path to Parnassus is a very steep one ; there are many falls 



THE PLAZA DE TOROS 185 

and bruises. The young bull-fighter must learn in the first 
place to wield the plum-coloured cloak of the capador, and 
when he has acquired sufficient agility to enable him to 
keep the most savage bull at bay he will be promoted to 
the use of the banderillas. When he is an expert with them 
he may persuade some administration to allow him to form 
his own cuadrilla and kill novillos^ and, should he succeed, 
one engagement follows another until the great day in his 
life when he receives the alternativa and is admitted to 
the ranks of first-class matadors. On this occasion some 
leading diestro draws the bull into position for him and then 
hands him espada and muleta that he may complete the 
work ; thereafter he may take his cuadrilla to the leading 
cities of Spain and kill the three- and four-year-old bulls. 
Just as a great opera singer who has received the plaudits 
of the audience at La Scala or San Carlo di Napoli travels 
across the Atlantic, so the great matador is retained to visit 
the capitals of South America and Mexico, where he per- 
forms his office in return for enormous fees. Women bull- 
fighters are not unknown in Spain, though they are seldom 
entrusted with old bulls ; there is a school for women bull- 
fighters in Barcelona. 

A few years ago toreadors who died in the ring passed to 
the world beyond without the rites of the Church, but now- 
adays there is a chapel attached to the bull-ring where the 
pious matador may commit his safety to the keeping of the 
Virgin. A priest remains in attendance to administer the last 
sacrament to any one of the fraternity who fails to escape 
from the enemy. It often happens that one of the lesser 
lights of the bull-ring is very badly mauled and the courage 
with which one and all rush to his assistance is remarkable. 
Now and again a wound is fatal, generally because blood- 
poisoning sets in. Few great diestros can say that they have 



1 86 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 



1 



never been caught by the bull's horn though most of them 
have escaped with little injury. Espartero who in his day — 
that is to say in the early nineties of last century — was the 
greatest matador of Spain, met his death facing the first bull 
in a corrida at Madrid. The bull was one of the famous 
Miura herd known on account of their prowess as the " herd 
of death," and all Spain went into mourning for the dead 
matador. The last appearance in the bull-ring of a famous 
fighter is one that will never be forgotten by those who 
witness it. Standing room is at a premium, every seat has 
been sold weeks before the great day ; his last fight fought, 
the great torero cuts off his cherished pigtail (coleta) and 
lives in glory until he is translated to Paradise. His 
presence in the arena as a spectator is always the occasion 
for a display of frenzied enthusiasm. 

The arena is divided into sides, a shady side {sombra) 
and the sunny side (sol). To the sunny side the working 
classes and students gather in their thousands. They 
understand the value of every stroke and are prompt to 
scream applause or howl disgust ; their technical knowledge 
may compare with that of the people who go regularly to 
the gallery of our national opera house. They arm them- 
selves with pigskins full of wine, sandwiches made by cutting 
a roll in half and inserting a slice of greasy sausage, malodor- 
ous with garlic, and they enjoy themselves as though their 
life were one long holiday. The girls wear flowers in their 
hair and fight the sun with fans ; the men trust to their 
sombreros; the, consumption of cigarettes is enormous. 
The sunny side where it is unreserved fills as soon as the 
arena is opened ; the shady side is seldom completely oc- 
cupied until a few moments before the national anthem an- 
nounces the arrival of the President. The roads between 
the city and the arena are impassable. Every vehicle that 



THE PLAZA DE TOROS 187 

can be pressed into service is engaged at a high price for 
the afternoon ; the square in front of the Plaza is densely 
packed : motor-cars, carriages, carts, bicycles, are to be num- 
bered by the hundreds, and gallant cavaliers on splen- 
did horses find a passage through the crowd in order to 
exhibit their horsemanship and greet their friends. Even 
little children, who have not yet entered their teens, are 
taken to the Plaza de Toros, where they learn early to ac- 
quire a taste for, or complete indifference to, a spectacle 
that, for all its barbaric splendour, has many disgusting 
elements. 

Occasionally some spice of variety is introduced into the 
arena. When the writer was last in Madrid, he saw during 
his brief visit to the Plaza de Toros a celebrated man> 
Don Tancredo, who stood on a pedestal in the middle of 
the arena, dressed entirely in white. When the bull was 
released from the toril and had taken a preliminary canter 
around the arena he saw this motionless figure and ran up 
to investigate. He sniffed eagerly and seemed for a moment 
to be uncertain. D. Tancredo remained motionless as 
marble ; the movement of a limb, a deep breath, would 
have been the signal for his hideous death, but the most 
savage bull does not make war on statues, and a moment 
later toro was chasing the toreros around the arena while 
the statue, suddenly animated, was making a bee-line for 
the barrier amid a tumult of applause that made the bull 
turn round and bellow defiance to his audience. Contests 
between a bull and a lion, or a bull and a tiger are not un- 
known, but need not be described. 

There are many other aspects of the bull-ring : the fights 
in which the aristocrats of Spain replace the ordinary 
matador ; others in which the fighting is done by members 
of some trading association who are celebrating their fete- 



1 88 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

day. But many of these are associated with the Spanish 
fair which is one of the great national institutions and has 
been discussed in another place. Sufficient has been said 
to present a rough outline of the country's most popular 
pastime, to indicate its fascination and its more repellent 
aspect. The future of bull-fighting in Spain is uncertain, 
for though the public taste remains as it has been since Pan 
y los Toros was the most popular cry in the Iberian Pen- 
insula, it is an open secret that King Alfonso's consort has 
set her face against it and it is losing its hold upon the 
educated classes. Moreover, and this is a very important 
point, the breed of bulls is not what it used to be. The 
fighting quality of some of the best herds is deteriorating, 
while a general improvement in the financial outlook is 
making the Spaniard more attentive to business than he 
used to be and less indifferent to the waste of time and 
money involved in the pursuit of bull-fighting. Years may 
pass before a great change is noticeable, but there are many 
who believe that the most prosperous days of the arena 
have gone never to return. For no small part of the cruelty 
to animals that is undoubtedly a national failing in Spain, 
the Plaza de Toros must be held directly responsible. 



CHAPTER XVI 

STUDENT LIFE IN SPAIN 

T T is not easy for one who has not been a Spanish student 
^ to write about the student life of Spain, and in order 
to do so it is necessary to reflect that few Spanish students 
would be able to set their impressions down. When one 
is no longer young, even before the trumpeter under Time's 
judgment seat has sounded the Urdo of middle age, certain 
enthusiasms disappear. Our capacity for being rowdy 
and careless has passed ; responsibilities of various kinds 
dog our footsteps ; we are fortunate if we have not become 
intolerant of*the games in which we can no longer play a 
part — lajeunesse na qu'un temps. 

Student life in all the world's great centres is full of an 
exaggeration that stretches from sentiment to dress, from 
thought to action. Spanish student life is no exception to 
this rule. How could it be in a country where the sun 
levies its daily toll upon the working hours, and education 
is never taken quite seriously ? To be sure, there are theories 
of free and compulsory education, but everybody knows 
that in Spain theory and practice are seldom on speaking 
terms. Elementary education is provided by the State but 
competent teachers are not, and the dullest schoolmaster 
has the wit, and finds the means, to keep on good terms 
with the inspector. The higher education (so called) is 

189 



I90 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

reserved for the few. Nominally it is the main road to the 
learned professions and to Government appointments, but 
it is better to be a dull young friend of the local cacique^ 
than to be the brilliant lad with unattainable ideals and a 
soul above paltering with the truth. This of course is as 
far as material progress is concerned. 

The young student who has ideals without influence, 
runs a serious danger in Spain where the ranks of the forces 
which oppose the established order of things are recruited 
mainly from the estudiantes. Many a promising career has 
come to an untimely end in the cells of Montjuich and the 
other penal establishments of Spain, and it is as hard to 
say that the Government is not as justified in protecting 
itself against the inexperienced enthusiast for freedom, as 
is the student himself in working against the established 
order of things. In the eyes of youth many of the condi- 
tions which wiser minds accept are intolerable. 

Time was when the Spanish universities of Salamanca 
and Alcald rivalled Oxford and Cambridge of to-day. 
Not only did Spain send her most promising sons to these 
institutions whose degree conferred a r<^^^^^ recognized by all 
civilized Europe, but the young men of foreign lands were 
sent to Spain's great universities to study Arabic and the 
medical science. In those days the students wore the pre- 
scribed costume, the short black cloak fastened to the left 
shoulder, a three-cornered hat, knickerbockers, and a sword. 
Their discipline was severe, but they had their own associa- 
tions and were a force to be reckoned with, not only by the 
alcalde but by the highest authorities. The philosophy of 
Averrhoes and others who had translated the great works 
of Greece into Arabic was taught in Salamanca, and at 
Alcald Cardinal Cisneros edited the translation of the 
Polyglot Bible. The eyes of scholarship were turned upon 



STUDENT LIFE IN SPAIN 191 

Spain and the Spanish Renaissance budded, blossomed, and 
filled the face of the Iberian world with fruit. 

A great change has fallen upon Spain since those palmy 
days of scholarship, when Ferdinand and Isabella and 
Charles V ruled over the land. The two universities have 
become ten, but it would be flattery to suggest that those 
in existence to-day are worth together as much as either 
of their two great forebears. When Carnival time comes 
round groups of students who have assumed the old costume 
of Salamanca and Alcald, parade the streets in some of the 
big cities. They are armed with guitars and mandolins ; 
they sing old student songs and the least shamefaced of 
the estudiantina collects money from those who pass by. 
With such echo of fallen greatness as this melancholy in- 
cident can provide, the lovers of their country's old glory 
must be content. 

While Spain has fallen from her high estate as an apostle 
of culture, it is fair to say that some of her ten universities 
are effective educational forces. Madrid, Barcelona, and 
Oviedo are undeniably the pick of the bunch, the last named, 
situated in the cathedral town of what was the first capital 
of Spain after the Moorish invasion, being very fortunate 
in its professorial staff which includes that acknowledged 
authority upon Spanish history, Seftor Altamira. Barcelona 
is of course a centre of new ideas and is associated with the 
best commercial enterprise in Spain, but the university can 
hardly be said to lead the way in any direction. Perhaps 
young Spain in the eastern and active portion of the 
Peninsula thinks more of affairs than of intellectual pur- 
suits ; perhaps commerce absorbs those who would be well 
fitted to shine in other walks of life. Be these things as 
they may, the fact remains that Barcelona's world progress 
stops at the university gates. Barcelona's University, like 



192 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

its nine brethren, is under State control, and doubtless we 
may look to this condition to explain some of the failings 
of the Spanish university system. Patriots and scholars 
may often be heard to deplore the fact that their country 
has no endowed universities like Oxford and Cambridge, 
and that consequently the progress of these institutions is 
limited by forces they are unable to control or direct. In 
their palmy days Salamanca and Alcald were very rich ; 
to-day no university has more than is absolutely necessary 
to carry on its immediate work, while Alcald, with its rich 
traditions, has disappeared. 

The University of Madrid is the largest, and in certain 
respects the most progressive university in Spain. In times 
past it attracted some of the biggest brains in the country 
to its professorial chairs, and there is a healthy law that 
binds the Ministry of Education to give professors in the 
universities freedom to use their tongues as they think best. 
Even the conservative rulers of Spain have realized the 
impossibility of excluding Liberals from the catedra^ and it 
is well that they have shown so much wisdom, for some of 
the most distinguished professors of Madrid University have 
been Liberals or Republicans. Salmeron and Castelar 
among the dead, and Azcarrate among the living, have 
been professors of law or philosophy of the Madrid Univer- 
sity ; the two former were presidents of the short-lived 
Spanish Republic. A good story told of Castelar deserves 
record in this place. When Alfonso XII was brought to 
Madrid after the fall of the Republic, Castelar with his 
companions was exiled. Some years afterwards an amnesty 
was proclaimed and Castelar returned in triumph to Madrid 
to resume his office in the University. A vast gathering 
attended to hear his first lecture, and the greatest orator in 
all Spain mounted the rostrum, looked around him imper- 



STUDENT LIFE IN SPAIN 193 

turbably at the sea of eager faces surrounding him, and 
began " As I was saying yesterday ..." {Como decia ayer). 
Between that yesterday and this day he had fought the 
battle of the fallen Republic and had known the bitterness 
of years in exile. All memory of this, however poignant 
in the heart of Castelar, had passed from the professor of 
Madrid's University, and he continued his lecture at the very 
point at which it had been broken off. Needless to say 
the incident made a profound impression not only upon 
Madrid, but upon all Spain. 

Madrid is the seat of the leading medical college of the 
country, and it is the centre of the high schools as well as 
the preparatory schools in which young Spain studies for 
Government service. Chartered accountants, apothecaries, 
civil and mining engineers, all find their chief educational 
home in the capital, and this centralization of education is 
one of the great grievances of Catalonia which, regional 
to the core, objects most strongly to send its sons to the 
hated Castiles where they say the men who work are gov- 
erned by the men who play. But for all the objections of 
Catalonia, Madrid is, and will probably remain, the leading 
centre of Spanish student life. Other seats of universities 
— Seville, Saragossa, Santiago and the rest — are of little or 
no importance. 

Spanish universities not being residential, gather their 
students from all parts of the city and maintain no discipline 
out of lecture hours. The rules for attendance are fairly 
strict, and the students are not admitted to degrees unless 
they have been diligent in their attendance. 

Nominally the course of lectures in the Spanish univer- 
sity is free, but in actual fact it is expensive for several 
reasons. In the first place the Government levies a tax by 
directing that all official communications are to be written 
13 



194 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

on a stamped paper. This system of course is practised 
ad nauseam in France where one must pay for the privilege 
of making any application to a Government office, and in 
Spain it presses very harshly upon the poor student who 
can only make his application for examination or for a 
degree on heavily taxed paper. Many a poor Spanish 
student who has scraped together the money for his ex- 
amination, is unable to secure the degree he has earned 
because he is unable to pay for it. It is fair to remember 
that fees in our English universities are tolerably — or should 
one say intolerably — high. But here there is no suggestion 
of a free higher education while in Spain the fiction is 
religiously preserved. 

Another tax upon the poor student is levied by the 
impecunious professor who, by being born in Spain, has 
brought his brains to such a bad market. He has the 
privilege of enforcing his own textbooks upon his classes, 
and if he be sufficiently poor to need the assistance granted 
by this privilege, he will write a new textbook every year 
and compel his unfortunate pupils to purchase it. In this 
fashion he supplements his meagre State allowance. 
Throughout the Spanish universities the vicious circle of 
national maladministration may be seen revolving : the 
State underpays its professors, the professors tax the 
students, and everybody is profoundly dissatisfied. If it 
were not for the fact that nearly every student and every 
professor has in his brain a fully matured scheme for the 
regeneration of national education against the time when 
he becomes el Excelentisifno Senor Ministro de Instruccion 
PAblica^ the trouble could hardly be endured without occa- 
sional appeal to barricades and bloodshed. 

Those who lack the money required to enable them to 
take a degree, can generally spare a peseta to buy the paper 



STUDENT LIFE IN SPAIN 195 

on which they enter themselves for one of the small com- 
petitive examinations for a Government post. Teachers in 
the primary schools, professors in the colleges, inspectors 
of customs, post office officials — in short, all appointments 
that are not political and are not given away as douceurs to 
people who must be reckoned with, are gained by these 
competitive examinations. It would be no exaggeration 
to estimate these at two hundred and fifty per annum in 
Madrid and it is not uncommon to find five hundred com- 
petitors for a post, so that each of the examinations yield 
a very considerable amount to the Government in fees, for 
of the hundreds who pay their peseta for the right to com- 
pete only one can be chosen. Even when the post has 
been secured, its nominal emolument is subjected to a very 
heavy Government tax {el discuento del Estadd), and as far 
as some of the minor appointments are concerned, the fees 
taken for the entrance examination by the Government 
suffice to pay the successful candidate's salary for the first 
year of his office. Happily for the victor, his appointment 
lasts for life, but it is hardly matter for wonder that students 
as a class are " agin the Government ". The worst side of 
the existing system in Spain is its speculative character. 
Many a man who ought to strike out for himself and de- 
velop to the utmost such individuality as he may possess, 
lingers month after month in the Spanish capital, leading a 
careless, dissipated life while he proceeds from examination 
to examination, hoping against hope that one of the prizes 
in this rank State lottery will fall to him. The amount of 
energy lost to the country is enormous. The national 
strength is sapped, and a young countryman, whose devoted 
parents strain their meagre resources to keep him in the 
capital, wastes so much time in his endeavour to secure a 
State appointment that when at last he gives up the 



196 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

struggle in despair, he is quite unfitted to return to the life 
he left behind him in the country. Madrid has blighted 
his hopes, and having no further use for him, cast him 
adrift. Now he is ripe for the ranks of the more violent 
agitators, a tool sharpened to cut into the existing order of 
social life. 

Turning from this sober side of student life in Spain's 
university centres, it is pleasant to remember that in the 
years when he has hope as well as youth, the Spanish 
student leads a merry life and does little or nothing to 
complicate it by hard work. He has his club and he has 
his friends, and students unite in friendliest fashion to oppose 
grievances of whatever kind, so that if one professor proves 
so unpopular that his class revolts against him, it may rely 
upon the support of all the other classes, even those of the 
most popular professors in the university. The student 
has his sing-songs and is developing a taste for light 
German beer ; he loves billiards, dominates the feria, speaks 
slightingly of Mother Church, and will give his last peseta 
for a seat on the sunny side of the bull-ring. Sometimes 
on a Sunday afternoon you may see students sitting under 
the blazing sun of the Plaza de Toros with their coats 
tightly buttoned up, and a little examination or inquiry will 
reveal the fact that these aficcionados have literally pawned 
their shirts and their capas to assist at the function. The 
dancing booths that are generally to be found a little way 
beyond the city walls are greatly favoured by the students, 
who love to dance with the country girls and the servants 
who have an evening off duty. In times of a political 
crisis the students bring a large store of superfluous energy 
to the task of regenerating Spain, and make up in sound for 
anything they may lack in sense. Whatever their faults 
or shortcomings, the city they delight to honour looks upon 



STUDENT LIFE IN SPAIN 197 

them with a friendly eye. They contribute no small part 
of its life and colour, and the authorities are content to lay 
a light hand upon them even in hours of extreme provoca- 
tion. The philosopher and the patriot may look with un- 
feigned regret upon the terrible waste of life that results 
from the shortcomings of national administration. He 
may deplore wasted years and purposeless existence, but 
the Preacher himself has declared that there is a time for 
rejoicing. 

The lottery plays an important part in the life of the 
Spanish student, for in a city where thousands are gathered 
together a few prizes must be gained now and again by the 
impecunious. When a student is fortunate he does not 
cloud good luck with idle thoughts about a morrow ; he 
summons all his friends and acquaintances, adding to their 
numbers for the occasion, and with plenty of money in his 
pocket, proceeds in colloquial English to " do it in ''. Suffi- 
cient for the day or for the night tJie merriment and the 
extravagance thereof. If to-morrow brings an aching head 
and an empty purse in its train, these are no more than a 
part of the game, and every student who has been un- 
fortunate in the lottery hitherto doubles his subscription if 
he can find the money to do so. When the great sorteo 
comes around, the day when the big prizes are drawn, the 
scene is one of extraordinary animation. 

Of the theatre the Spanish student is an unfailing sup- 
porter as long as he has the peseta or a couple of reales 
that will pay for an entrada, A keen-witted and fearless 
critic, he demands good value for his money, and his 
capacity for whistling like a ship's siren, and hammering on 
the floor with the noise like the passing of a regiment of 
cavalry over a hard road, is something that must be heard 
before it can be appreciated. The limits of his purse are 



198 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

the foundation of his preference for the genera chico^ the 
series of one hour entertainments that make up the pro- 
gramme in most Spanish theatres. Only when the 
month's remittance has just arrived and is burning a hole 
in his pocket will he patronize the genero grande with 
its three act play, or the paraiso (gallery) of the opera 
house. 

One of the reasons why the Spanish student is always 
poor is that the university life is almost limited to the 
upper middle and lower middle classes. The aristocracy 
engages private tutors for its sons, or sends them to the 
military colleges, or gives them a year or two at some 
foreign university. The Cadet College is situated at Toledo, 
and on the occasion of the annual distribution of awards 
the King, attended by full military staff, is always present. 
Doubtless this visit has its own political significance. 

The path of the Spanish student is not made easier 
for him by scholarships ; such stimulus as the scholar- 
ship gives to the English lad is unknown in Spain, 
where the papel sellado enfolds one and all in its costly 
embrace, and no student can receive his degree or an ap- 
pointment until his path to it has been paved with stamped 
paper. 

As a class Spanish students are pleasant lads enough, 
fond of fun, inclined to look with suspicion or impatience 
upon work, very full of life and good spirits. They have 
no sense of responsibility, and are frequently heard to refer 
to their father as the treasurer sent by Providence {el 
cajero enviado por Dios), 'The allowance of a student 
whose parents are not blessed with a generous proportion 
of the world's goods, is as low as fourteen shillings a week. 
This would be rather a small allowance for Madrid, but 
would be quite sufficient to maintain a lad in a provincial 



STUDENT LIFE IN SPAIN 199 

university. The higher cost of living in the capital is 
recognized by the Government, and the scale of pay for 
Madrid officials is higher than that which must suffice their 
provincial brethren. 

It has been said that the students' habits are cheerful 
and inoffensive, but an exception to the last adjective must 
be taken on account of th^Jltrteo, The Spanish student 
claims the right to make remarks (echar piropos, literally, 
to throw compliments) to every pretty girl or young woman 
he passes in the street. He limits his attentions to those 
ladies who please his eye, and to these his remarks are 
frequently vulgar without being funny. When the student 
sees a pretty girl approaching, he immediately assumes the 
gait of a matador, squares his shoulders, throws his chest 
out, fixes the fair damsel with his eye, as Mr. Sim Tappertit 
used to fix the locksmith's daughter. Oddly enough one 
does not hear of cases in which the student gets his ears 
boxed or is soundly kicked by some outraged relative of 
the lady. Only when this interference with young women 
is resented by their relatives, the palmy days of th^Jlirteo 
will draw to an end, but it is impossible to avoid the 
thought that the Spanish mujer is flattered by the atten- 
tions. If the too ardent student be the reverse of per- 
sonable, she can stab him with her eyes, and leave him 
wellnigh paralysed on the pavement, following her with 
his glance but quite incapable of moving. If the student be 
an attractive specimen of his class, he will still get no further 
recognition than a glance, but it will be one of a more 
friendly sort. The working girls who labour in the factories 
of the university towns have had a long training in the 
arts of flirteo. Woe to the student who does not seem 
sufficiently attractive to justify his coarse remarks ; the 
chula is on him quick as a hawk on its quarry. In a second 



200 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

she has taken stock of his most prominent disabilities, 
mental, moral, or physical. In picturesque language, 
largely metaphorical, in a few terse sentences full of scorn, 
the chula can make her little persecutor regret the day of 
his birth. To make matters more difficult for the beaten 
party, the rebuke is always delivered, by a chula at least, 
at the top of her voice, and as \h^flirteo is quite a recog- 
nized part of student life, passers-by are always keenly in- 
terested in the outcome of one of the little encounters. 
The writer remembers a passing scene in a tram-car in 
Madrid between one of these manolas and a tall, rather thin 
and meagre-looking youth. The latter had boarded the 
car and sat down beside the woman scanning her with the 
impertinence of Spanish eyes. At a favourable moment — 
for such at least it must have seemed to him — he whispered 
some words, doubtless of admiration, in her ear. Quick as 
a flash of lightning the chula turned full upon her aggressor, 
glanced at him scornfully, and then, in a loud voice to be 
heard by the deafest of the occupants of the car, she said : 
" Cdllese, es Usted un chico en grande de limon " — by 
which was meant, metaphorically speaking, a small capacity 
in a large compass, though literally the picture of a few 
drops of lemonade lost in a big glass, was referred to. 
There was a hearty burst of laughter from the travellers on 
the car at this sharp sally, which only increased the thin 
youth's embarrassment ; nor is it to be wondered at that 
at the next turning he should jump off the tram and dis- 
appear hurriedly in the crowd, leaving the manola in trium- 
phant possession of the field of her victory. 

In winter the student wears the capa which, for purposes 
of th^Jlirteo^ he endeavours, generally with small success, 
to fold after the fashion of the bull-ring. The capa is a 
black cloak, the remnant of the old dress of Spain, and the 



STUDENT LIFE IN SPAIN 201 

forepart of the inside lining generally consists of a broad 
strip of bright-coloured velvet. When the capa is adjusted, 
it is thrown back over the shoulder intended to display the 
lining to advantage. The capa has great advantages as a 
winter covering, keeping the wearer warm from his shoulders 
to the immediate neighbourhood of his knees ; below the 
knees he must suffer all the rigor of the Spanish winter. 
There is a steadily growing class in Spain that eyes the 
capa with profound disapproval, declaring that it is one of 
the three stumbling-blocks to Spanish progress, the other 
two being the Plaza de Toros and the garbanzos. Here 
again we see the Spanish taste for metaphor. There is no 
feeling that chick-peas are harmful, but they are the most 
outstanding component part of the national dish puchero^ 
and those Spaniards who have been educated abroad or 
have joined the ranks of the intelectuales have a certain 
intolerance of their own national institutions. They would 
like to see their country flattened out like a lawn under a 
heavy roller, all idiosyncrasies removed under a dead level 
of thought and custom that would, in their own picturesque 
language, sink the Pyrenees into the earth and seal down 
the doorways leading to the Cid's tomb. Happily per- 
haps for certain of the most alluring aspects of Spanish 
life, the Spanish student is a great stickler for tradition, 
and as the opinions of the advanced few cannot permeate 
far beyond the city walls, the Spaniard of the small pro- 
vincial cities and the vast open spaces of the country 
remains wholly unaffected by them. 

If the life of the student of letters is hard, the life of the 
art student is harder still. There are several important art 
schools in Spain, and in the large provincial towns the 
schools of art are allied to the ordinary secondary school. 
To sum up the situation in a sentence, it may be said that 



202 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

only the industrial arts flourish in Spain, and when a lad 
wishes to become a painter or a sculptor he is safe to find 
himself faced by the uncompromising opposition of his family 
and friends. Their attitude is really justified, because the 
art of the Spanish painter is not national to-day. If parents 
can afford the outlay, they send their sons abroad, generally 
to Paris, where perhaps one in a hundred will make a name 
for himself. The Government art schools of Spain draft a 
small number of their most prominent pupils to the Spanish 
Academy in Rome, where at the expense of the Government 
they remain for at least two years and are required to send 
to Spain one work of art a year, the first being a study from 
the nude and the second an historical picture. It is worth 
remarking that there is very little room for the nude in 
Spanish art, perhaps because the beauty of Spanish national 
costume makes the female figure so much more attractive 
when it is dressed and appeals to the national sentiment 
of the country. Others would hold that this aversion from 
the nude is the outcome of the Spaniard's strong feeling for 
things as he sees them in public life. 

In the university towns that boast an academy of art the 
art-students do not make a group by themselves as they do 
in France. They unite with other students and enjoy them- 
selves after the same fashion. As a class they worship El 
Greco and Velasquez, sneer at Murillo, denounce their in- 
structors, and sigh for the Latin Quarter and the modern 
art movement of Paris. As they grow older the great part 
of them break away from whatever influence France or Italy 
may have brought to bear upon them, the regional spirit of 
Spain being too strong for it. Only in Madrid and Bar- 
celona can one find a foreign convention enjoying some mea- 
sure of feeble life on Spanish soil. It is permissible to 
suggest that as far as Madrid is concerned, this modern in- 



STUDENT LIFE IN SPAIN 203 

fluence is merely second-hand, and has filtered through to 
the capital by way of Barcelona where all activity is more 
or less modern. 

Once in two years there is a great exhibition of pictures 
in the Palace at the Hippodrome of Madrid. It is run on 
principles differing very considerably from those that obtain 
in this country, every artist being at liberty to send his work 
in and to have it hung as long as the subject is not flagrantly 
immoral. A certain amount of favouritism may be displayed 
in the hanging of the pictures but nobody is crowded out, 
and there is much to be said for this principle which has 
been copied of late years in London by the Allied Artists' 
Association in its exhibitions at the Albert Hall. At the 
exhibition in Madrid one sees the work of the Spanish 
students in Rome. Medals are given by the State for the 
best work of the year which is supposed to be purchased by 
the Government, but it is no uncommon thing for the artist 
who has secured his medal to be compelled to wait two or 
three years for his money. In the granting of the medals 
personal influence plays a very considerable part, and while 
many of those who have achieved a medal have passed al- 
together from public notice, a large number who are at the 
head of Spanish art to-day, have never received recognition 
from the State. 

Other exhibitions are those of the various Circulos de 
Bellas Artes which belong for the most part to provincial 
towns, are supported by their own members, and do 
not exhibit outside work. Being smaller than the great 
exhibition of Madrid, they attract more detailed atten- 
tion from those who are interested in art, for the majority 
of the patrons of the exhibition at the Hippodrome never 
brought anything more like a picture than one of the 
highly coloured oleographs of saint or martyr that, like 



204 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

so many other of Spain's commodities, has been made in 
Germany. 

Among Spain's living painters many are called but few 
are chosen. The clever portrait-painters — Sorolla, Car- 
bonero, and Pradilla — can command good prices and fairly 
constant work, but the middle classes are not patrons of 
art and the very wealthy prefer to collect or speculate in 
old masters. It is only in the great commercial centres, 
Barcelona and Bilbao, that the modern painter who com- 
bines talent and individuality can hope to achieve prosperity 
in some moderate measure ; in Madrid, unless he be a highly 
favoured portrait-painter, his case is hopeless. 

For the unsuccessful — and their name is legion — there is 
much trouble. Penury marches at their heels, and after 
years of striving their last pesetas are spent on papel sellado 
that will enable them to enter into competition for the 
small living wage of the Government art teacher. Failing 
this they may betake themselves, comparatively late in life, 
to some other profession, or may retire to their country town 
to live in such halo as they can carry from a well-known art 
centre on the slender profits of an estudio to which pupils are 
admitted at very low fees. The lad who goes to a country 
studio of this kind is one whose parents cannot afford an 
annual outlay of £2^ for his eight months' course in some 
provincial university centre. Still others, who find they 
cannot earn a living by the exercise of their gifts at serious 
work, paint hundreds of the little genre pictures that are 
exhibited in shop windows or hawked about in the cafes as 
souvenirs of the city, much in the same way as the shops 
in our seaside towns sell amazing plates, dishes, and glasses 
on which are printed the moving words, " A Present from the 
Seaside ". Others, who have probably lost all love for their 
fatherland, join the ranks of picture-restorers, and for quite 



STUDENT LIFE IN SPAIN 205 

a moderate fee will spoil any masterpiece entrusted to their 
care. This passion for restoration has always been a Spanish 
vice ; time was when the Prado had its restorer. To him 
Titian, Velasquez, and countless others of lesser degree were 
cheerfully surrendered, and he did with them as seemed 
good in his eyes, correcting their faults of drawing and per- 
spective, restoring their colour and generally man-handling 
them with an indifference born of conscious superiority. Of 
late years the activity of this official restorer would seem to 
be in abeyance ; perhaps his post has been abolished, per- 
haps the growing interest in old masters has led the 
Spanish authorities to believe that they are better left 
alone. But for a very long time the scandal was a crying 
one. 

Sculpture does not flourish in Spain, probably on account 
of the progress made in wood-carving which has reached a 
high state of perfection in pasos and retablos^ but in the 
industrial arts Spain is making a rapid and well-defined 
progress. Schools of industrial arts are thriving! and are 
developing along different lines, drawing students from all 
parts of the country. While on the one side we find a 
modern movement emanating from Barcelona and Bilbao, 
and founded entirely upon French and English ideas, on 
another side we note a movement in the direction of an older 
tradition. Engraving on metal, inlaying, wrought-iron work 
of the old patterns, wood-carving for altar-pieces — all these 
industries are being revived and vigorously followed up, side 
by side with modern industries that only a few years ago 
were unknown in Spain. Some of our English art magazines, 
notably the " Studio,'' have exercised great influence upon 
the work that comes from Bilbao, where modern furniture, 
following English fashions, old or new, is undeniably the 
best in Spain to-day. From an English standpoint Bilbao's 



2o6 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

attitude towards modern industrial art is far more sane 
than that of Barcelona, for the former recognizes the value 
of an occasional straight line and Barcelona has a startling 
penchant for curves. The revival of the old industrial arts 
is associated with the north ; in the south no revival of the 
regional industries was , necessary ; they have been thriving 
within the limits of Spain's prosperity since they were first 
established by the Moors. The chief industries are those 
in leather (Cordoba) and the azulejos in Valencia. Need- 
less to say the Castiles do not concern themselves with 
any other industry save those of tax-collecting and ad- 
ministration. Even the departure of the steel industry 
from Toledo — once famous throughout Europe for its 
sword blades — to Eibar in the Basque Provinces, seems to 
have raised little comment and to have excited no regret. 
Perhaps Castile feels that the change removes com- 
mercialism still farther from her borders. There are those 
among the most progressive class in Spain who see in this 
departure of the last industry from the governing provinces 
a certain sinister significance that they welcome. Castile, 
they say, is becoming farther and farther removed from the 
rest of Spain ; indeed, the great central plain in which 
Madrid is set tends strongly towards depopulation ; the 
inhabitants move steadily in the direction of the coast, and 
the time will come when the capital will stand alone, 
separated by miles of waste land from the rest of Spain. 
Across this desert to the city they see an ever-dwindling 
procession of students approaching a goal that becomes 
year by year less desirable. East, south, and north they 
see a new Spain arising, with an administration that will 
successfully defy the central Government. 

This is the dream of the republican and the socialist, 
who never pause to remember that their country's faults, 



STUDENT LIFE IN SPAIN 207 

like their country's virtues, are affairs of climate, and that if 
all the governing classes could be replaced to-morrow, 
their successors would be compelled to face the problems 
of government in some spirit of compromise not unlike 
that which obtains to-day. 



CHAPTER XVII 

IN A SPANISH VILLAGE 

LET us pass together across the foot-hills of the rugged, 
savage Castilian sierra. We are bound for the village 
of Doquiera, the village to which no rail runs, where in the 
heat of the year no green thing grows, where the appear- 
ance of the postman creates something between a sensation 
and a scandal, and the daily passing of the stage-coach 
summons the lovely, half-clad, ill-cared-for boys and girls 
from their play. A bridle path over the oak-topped spurs 
leads us from el diablo mundo to Doquiera. The deep 
valley on our left, now so dry and bare, carries a rushing 
torrent in the rainy season, and far away on the right, in 
the hollow of the hill, those ruins, now so hopeless, solitary, 
and grey, were once a thriving convent in which a hundred 
voices were raised in prayer by day and by night. From 
the belfry, now invisible, the people of Doquiera were re- 
minded that time was slipping from beneath their feet, and, 
in joy or trouble, they would seek the walls, which once 
enclosed a great part of the valley and hid thriving vine- 
yards and an orchard, certain that within its shelter they 
would find welcome and good counsel. 

To-day owls and bats divide between them such shelter 
as the convent affords. But far away on the left, over the 
bridge that must have been built by Spain's Moorish in- 
vaders to span the winter torrent, Doquiera basks in sun- 

208 




"HE (;OA'rHKRl) 



IN A SPANISH VILLAGE 209 

shine and takes no heed of the flight of time. If it ever 
thinks of solitude and remoteness from the world beyond 
its walls, the thought is a pleasant one, and the daily sight 
of the antique berlina that brings an occasional passenger 
or two, and a still more occasional letter, is a happy re- 
minder to Doquiera that there is no intention on the part 
of the powers that rule Spain to inflict the indignity of a 
railway service upon her. The village knows that black 
care rides ever behind the horseman, or to be more exact, 
that the tax collector will appear by the first train. 
Doubtless, too, a railway company would demand a subsidy 
of perhaps five hundred pesetas (twenty pounds sterling). 
Doquiera is already heavily in debt to the Provincial 
Government : when the village accounts were last audited, 
she was some sixty pesetas (two pounds five shillings) in 
arrear, and although an attempt has been made to put the 
matter right by reducing the schoolmaster's salary and 
allowing the postmaster's stipend to get a little in arrear, 
the deficit is not likely to be made up this year, and they 
say in Doquiera that the Provincial Governor is meditating 
some very drastic action. Reckoning that Doquiera has 
two hundred inhabitants, the financial situation might be 
saved by a forced levy of one real a head, but with the 
exception of the cacique^ who is popularly reported to be a 
millionaire, hardly anybody in Doquiera has a real to spare. 
The village clusters round the hill crow^ned by a church 
dedicated to San Anton, to whose care mules, horses, and 
asses, to say nothing of other four-footed animals, are com- 
mitted. It is a bare edifice, the only ornament being an 
elaborate side altar erected by the cacique for the salvation 
of his soul, which is said to stand rather in need of special 
attention owing to accidents inseparable from the making 
of a fortune. Happily for his future state the altar is quite a 
14 



2IO HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

high-class affair, boasting far more tinsel and glass than 
the main altar, and served by candles of superior size. 

On a little plateau slightly below the church is the Plaza 
de la Constitucion. The careful observer will be a little 
puzzled to find that the plaza has three names. Half-ob- 
literated on the right-hand side as you come out of the 
church is the old title, Plaza Mayor, dating from the time 
of Ferdinand and Isabella. On the left is the more modern 
title of Plaza de la Libertad put up in the days when some 
echo of Salemeron's republican rule spread across the sierras 
to far Doquiera. Then, when the monarchy was restored, 
the proud title of Plaza de la Constitucion was affixed to 
one of the square's unoccupied corners, but the authorities 
lacked either the time or the energy to remove the old 
names. If the republic should come back the second title 
will serve, and if some new and unexpected form of govern- 
ment obtain in Spain, there is still an unoccupied corner to 
serve for the plaza's rechristening. 

The plaza is planted with pepper trees — male trees on 
one side and female trees on the other — and at certain times 
of the year, when the rainfall has been generous, their 
stunted little trunks seem to make up their minds to achieve 
distinction. But the effort is too much for them : the rain 
passes, and the sun returns, and the trees shrivel back to 
insignificance. 

Prominent on one side of the plaza is the alcaldia or 
town hall. Doquiera would promptly take up arms against 
the rest of Spain if the Government sought to lay violent 
hands upon her town hall. Our village is not so famous 
in the annals of Spain as the little (village of M6stoles, near 
Madrid, whose alcalde^ be it remembered, declared war 
against Napoleon ; but within the memory of man Doquiera 
picked a quarrel with another village lying behind the 



IN A SPANISH VILLAGE 211 

sierra's spur far away to the right as you look across the 
plaza from the steps of the church, and she sent more than 
fifty braves armed with navajas and sticks to do battle on 
her behalf. Doubtless she would have covered herself with 
glory had she been a little quicker about the business, but 
mobilization takes some time in Doquiera, and the driver 
of the coche told the authorities of the big provincial town 
twenty miles away, with the result that twenty stalwarts 
of the Guardia Civil were waiting on the prado to avert a 
civil war. Disgust was universal, but the situation was saved. 
For the captain of the guards informed the alcalde of each 
village that if hostilities were resumed the provincial 
governor would fine each village, and, to make matters worse, 
would raise the rate on consumos (food-stuffs) until the fine 
was paid. The hottest blood cooled at the thought of such 
a catastrophe. 

But the alcaldia is very sacred. It holds a number of 
bare whitewashed rooms with a desk and a chair here and 
there, and sometimes an empty cupboard that may serve 
some useful purpose in years to come. Nobody quite knows 
the office hours or the duties associated with the alcaldia. 
But the alcalde himself has a pair of black whiskers which are 
an honour to the whole province, and he moves as though 
conscious that the governing circles of far-away Madrid re- 
gard his procedure with an anxious eye, and he talks as 
if the burden of the whole Spanish Empire lay heavily upon 
his broad shoulders. 

Facing the alcaldia across the plaza is the modest mansion 
of the village aristocrat, the casa senorialy built centuries 
ago, with a ponderous escutcheon over the carved doorway 
and a wonderful knocker wrought in iron matched by a no 
less beautiful lock admitting a key more than a foot long. 
The rejas protecting the lower windows are of rare beauty, but 



212 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

no caballero is ever seen to stand in front of one. Doquiera 
holds no man fit to mate with the lady of the house, who 
lives with her brother in semi-regal state on an income that 
hardly amounts to fifteen shillings a week. The blue- 
blooded couple are kind and courteous to one and all, but 
they dwell in a world apart, on intimate terms with nobody, 
their only companion, beyond the old couple who serve 
them, being poverty. Even the cacique abates his normal 
attitude of bluster and forgets his importance when D. 
Felipe Guzmdn or Dofia Serafina are abroad, and while they 
do not demand humility from others, they accept it as their 
due. All the cacique's riches, which, although they fall very 
far below the popular estimate, are not inconsiderable, can- 
not purchase him admittance to the casa senorial, and so it 
happens that when he walks on that side of the plaza he 
lowers his proud look. 

The only other house on the plaza that calls for notice here 
is the casa del cura^ the home of the parish priest. He is a 
kindly soul, and enters intimately into the life of the parish, 
a welcome guest in every house, for Doquiera knows nothing 
of atheism or free-thought. His ama or housekeeper is no 
longer young and is well favoured — too well favoured, it is 
said, to be the companion of one who is vowed to celibacy. 
But she has a good heart, a discreet tongue, a helping hand, 
and a pleasant smile, and the worst that is said in Doquiera 
is that the cur a is a ** man like any other ". 

Much to its regret Doquiera has no Plaza de Toros, but 
every year when the feria comes round the last day is 
given to a bull-fight. It is a very crude affair, and is cele- 
brated in the plaza which has been barricaded on all sides. 
Nothing but a bull-fight would lead to the accomplishment 
of so much hard work as is entailed by the erection of these 
barricades, and as Doquiera is too poor to use full-grown 



IN A SPANISH VILLAGE 213 

bulls, becerros (young bulls about fifteen months old) are 
exposed to the clumsy assault of a cuadrilla that seems to 
have been recruited from the gutter. A local ganadero 
armed with an unpointed pole takes the place oi \\\^ picador ; 
there is no money to spend on horses, although the poor 
beasts slaughtered to make a Spanish holiday can be bought 
for a pound apiece. The banderilleros are amateurs ; he who 
can place " half a pair " in the becerrds quivering shoulders is 
accounted skilful. The diestro himself will make half a 
dozen attempts to get the espada home, and when the 
populace that throngs the barriers and has been recruited 
from neighbouring villages feels that the master of the 
sword requires assistance, the barriers are stormed and the 
poor becerro falls under a score of knives. It is a bloody and 
disgusting spectacle, but it provides a use for the alcaldia^ 
whose windows are crowded by the mayor's friends, and 
from the balcony of the casa senortal, decorated on this 
high occasion with the ancestral tapestries, Don Felipe 
Guzman and his sister sit in state, their two servants 
respectfully behind them — the woman sitting down — and 
survey the scene with no expression of emotion. It is just 
a part of the life they have known since first they assumed 
the heavy burden of the sangre azuL In their own fashion 
they are as friendless as the poor tortured becerro in the 
plaza at their feet. 

Even uglier than the corrida de toros is the corrida degallos 
in which all the local horsemen compete. Three parts down 
the centre of the plaza two poles are stuck up and a thin cord 
stretched taut between them about twelve feet above the 
ground. From this cord half a dozen fowls are suspended by 
the legs. The caballeros on their small ponies race from the 
far end of the plaza, and as they pass underneath the cord en- 
deavour to wring the head off one of these living fowls. The 



214 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

poor birds, as though conscious of what awaits them, endeav- 
our to tuck their head under their wing ; but the cabellerds 
eye is keen and his hand is strong and steady, and one 
after another they turn their ponies and gallop back with 
the bloody head in one hand while the still moving carcass 
remains suspended to the cord. And yet the men who do 
this hideous thing, and those who applaud their skill, are 
kindly folk, who work hard, are good to their wives and 
children, and fulfil their duties to Church and State. Such 
sports as these are quite beyond our comprehension ; we 
can only be devoutly thankful that they make no appeal 
to us. 

Happily 'Cn^feria has a brighter side and more innocent 
amusement. The, greased pole that was once familiar to 
those who visited the fairs in rural England is always in 
evidence in Doquiera, and children as well as men endeavour 
to climb it in competition for the prizes of money or a ham, 
provided by subscription, of which the State, represented by 
the alcalde^ the Church, and the cacique have given a liberal 
part. There is also a small firework display, sometimes 
associated with trifling accidents. 

But the/m«^, with its curious mixture of revolting and 
harmless amusement, only occupies the plaza for one week 
out of fifty-two. Throughout the rest of the year it is 
Doquiera's market-place, and the market folk are very early 
afield. The most of the merchandise is displayed upon the 
ground ; the butcher is almost the only man who boasts a 
stall made of a few boards stretched across trestles. Once 
a week he has fresh beef for sale, on other days his patrons 
are content with mutton or goafs flesh. The fact that no 
consuino is levied on sheep or goats doubtless serves to give 
their meat an added flavour to the thrifty Spanish housewife, 
for beef carries a tax, 



IN A SPANISH VILLAGE 215 

Round the corner, by Doquiera's village church, and 
consequently in the full odour of sanctity, the taberna raises 
its modest head. Early in the morning the wreath of 
smoke, rising straight up through windless air to the blue 
vault above, tells that the ama is cooking the little cakes of 
egg and flour that Doquiera will eat with its morning's 
chocolate, and already in the bar parlour men are fortify- 
ing themselves against the day's toil with the capita de 
aguardiente that costs a ha'penny, and in their brief moments 
of leisure they discuss affairs of Church and State, life and 
death, and the world to come, as gravely and to no less 
purpose than if they were philosophers, each boasting the 
degree of a learned university and the authorship of half a 
dozen works that nobody reads. There is not a man in all 
Doquiera who does not know that he has all the panaceas 
for his country's troubles in his brain. 

As the sun moves up from the east, sprinkling the white 
walls with burning violet shadows, the little group round 
the taberna disperses. The market women gather what is 
left of their wares and betake themselves to their homes or 
seek a few minutes' shelter in the cool silence of the church. 
Peace settles upon Doquiera's plaza and lays a light 
hand upon the streets surrounding it. Even the birds cease 
their song ; only a few gaunt and hungry fowls wander to 
and fro like Apollyon of old seeking what they may devour. 
Doquiera is not idle, but its men have gone to the field, to 
woo the means of living from the rich, ill-tended soil ; the 
women are already preparing the evening meal, and in the 
bare, whitewashed schoolhouse the maestro is imparting 
some of his scanty store of knowledge to his indifferent 
flock of boys and girls. He enforces no discipline nor do 
the children give him much trouble. The school inspector 
may make an occasional visit, but he can only come by the 



2i6 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

cache; he must book his seat a day before he sets out, and 
the driver is an old friend of the maestro. Even if the 
inspector should be young and energetic, a contingency so 
remote that it may be disregarded, the maestro need do no 
more than point to the fact that his salary is in arrear and 
the inspector will accept a cigarette, shrug his shoulders and 
accompany the " educator of youth" to the taherna, where 
over two ha'penny glasses of aguardiente the worthy men 
will evolve a new and perfect system of education to take 
effect when the inspector has been appointed to be Minister 
of Education, and the schoolmaster has been promoted to 
be rector of a University. 

The only shopkeeper of importance in Doquiera is the 
grocer, a man of repute, who is " agin the Government," 
though he probably does not know why. It is likely that he 
felt the necessity of being opposed to something, if only to 
show his independence, and in the eyes of the local patriot 
Government exists to act as a target for grievances. 
Between the cacique and the grocer there is a rivalry that 
only death can end. Doquiera's grocer is a diplomat, and 
if there were a Ministry for Grocery in the Spanish Cabinet 
he knows that he would be asked to accept the portfolio. 
His diplomacy enables him to oppose the cacique^ who 
is the recognized political agent of the Government in 
Doquiera, and yet to retain his agency for the Banco de 
Espana^ and bank the little savings of his patrons. He 
calls himself tendero — but this is a very elastic term in Spain, 
and in this case includes banking, the sale of toys, clothes, 
food-stuffs, and the still more profitable practice of usury. 
Doquiera has very little money, and its purchases are made 
on the most modest scale imaginable. But the grocer wears 
a prosperous smile and raises a large family in comparative 
comfort. It may be that some change in the Ministry will 



IN A SPANISH VILLAGE 217 

help him to the caciques place, or that some higher appoint- 
ment will tempt the cacique to a big provincial town, satisfied 
with the reflection that the altar in Doquiera's church re- 
mains to atone for past pecadillos, and that the profit of a 
new job will pay for the erection of yet another, in expiation 
of offences to come. 

The estanco sells tobacco in Doquiera together with post- 
age-stamps and lottery tickets under the auspices of the 
company that buys the tobacco monopoly from the Govern- 
ment. Here one may realize the amazing truth which 
larger cities enforce : the truth that there are no good cigars 
in Spain. The very best cigar Doquiera can offer is not very 
much worse than the best that is to be purchased in Cadiz or 
Saragossa. In Madrid or Barcelona a really good cigar may 
be bought, though even there the price is higher than the 
quality. The best products of Havana go to London, 
Paris, and New York. Like the rest of the world of Spain, 
Doquiera scorns the pipe, but for such a little village its 
consumption of cigarettes is enormous. Those who can 
afford to buy cigarettes can get from four to six for a 
penny ; but the general practice among the poor is to buy 
tobacco and roll the cigarettes for themselves. You will 
hunt in vain through Doquiera for a man whose first finger 
is not stained a permanent yellow with nicotine. The 
tobacconist is a woman, one of the widows left by the 
Spanish-American War. Throughout the country these 
small billets have been given by the Government to widows, 
who must relinquish them if they marry again. They do 
not marry again, but one would hesitate to affirm that all 
their lives are barren of domestic bliss. 

Doquiera has its caf6 or casino, quite distinct from the 
taberna, and far removed from the Plaza de la Constituci6n. 
It is a pleasant place with tiny marble-topped tables that 



2i8 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

may have had quite a good colour in years long gone by, 
and towards the evening it is well patronized by all classes 
of the community, including the Guardia from the little 
barracks. Here one may meet the apothecary, surely a 
lineal descendant of him who burnt Don Quixote's godless 
books, a learned man, and one who has helped the doctor to 
keep Doquiera's population within reasonable limits. His 
shop is not well equipped according to modern ideas, but 
such simples as he boasts are compounded with as much 
care as he thinks the case demands, and as several sick 
people have been known to use his medicines and recover, 
he is not without a reputation. His position is greatly 
strengthened by his wife, who is the grocer's eldest daughter, 
and the two, representing as they do the ripe fruit of science 
and commerce, claim a considerable social position in the 
village. In the cafe one meets the telegraph operator, for 
Doquiera has lately come into communication with the 
outer world, though it must be confessed that the village 
wire seldom troubles the junction lying miles away across 
the brown sierra. But in the worthy operator one sees the 
instrument by which under Providence Spain is enabled to 
keep in touch with Doquiera's progress, and when telegraphist, 
apothecary, his faithful ally the doctor, and the schoolmaster 
are assembled together, Doquiera waits upon their wisdom 
and profits by it, for, let it be known to every man, these 
worthies have taken all knowledge to be their province, and 
nothing in the heaven above or earth beneath or the waters 
under the earth, can escape from the all-circling net of their 
intelligence. 

In Doquiera there are no weekday amusements save once a 
year when the feria reigns supreme, but on Sunday while 
one generation prays in the church, a younger generation 
^\3.ys pelota against the church wall. That which would be 



IN A SPANISH VILLAGE 219 

a scandal of the first dimension in this country is accepted 
almost without comment in Spain. The pelota of the 
children is little more than a game of ball, not unlike the 
English game of fives ; but the real pelota is also played 
against the church wall, while service is being cele- 
brated within, by men who care more for physical than 
spiritual exercise. Those who stand half-way between 
spiritual and worldly things, too lax to go and listen to the 
cura, too devout to p\a,ypelotay compound with their con- 
science by watching the game. If Doquiera were situated 
in Navarre or the Basque Provinces, the pelota players 
would have their own wall {fronton) set up in a field, 
away from the shadow of the church, but in these northern 
provinces the betting would assume very formidable 
dimensions, while in Doquiera, although the wagering 
is brisk, the money lost is small. On Sunday afternoons 
the girls who have been in the church in the morning meet 
the boys who were playing outside, and the young couples 
stroll to and fro along the plaza, where many vows are made 
and perhaps a few are broken. Sometimes from the balcony 
of the casa sehorial Dofia Serafina may be seen watching the 
procession of youth, beauty, and happiness. Can the know- 
ledge that hers is the true sangre azul^ unstained by a single 
drop of plebeian admixture, console the poor creature for 
standing so high above, so far beyond the life around her ? 
Qui^n sabe? Perhaps the cura^ who receives all the secrets 
of that distorted life under the seal of the confessional. 

Hitherto we have wandered amid the rank and fashion 
of Doquiera. We have hardly ventured beyond the Plaza 
de la Constituci6n, save to visit men of mark in the village. 
Now let us venture into the lower quarters where the poor 
thrive as best they may on the weekly wage of seven or 
eight shillings earned by the master of the tapia hut that 



220 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

passes for home. It is hardly necessary to explain why 
Doquiera has not yet had time to master the elements of sani- 
tary science, and the result of local indifference to hygiene 
IS revealed by the high death-rate in fashion which it seems 
best to leave wholly undescribed. The narrow allies between 
the hovels of sun-dried clay are the happy hunting-ground 
of thin chickens, aggressive pigs, and the loveliest little dirty 
children in the world. In the cool of the evening every 
hut seems to dismiss its inhabitants to a place where the 
pavement ought to be. Men and women who look to be 
of a very great age but are probably younger than they 
look, create a mild astonishment in the mind of the passer 
who cannot quite understand how people have managed to 
live so long in such unsavoury surroundings ; women give 
their lately born infants their evening meal ; children play 
happily in the dirt unquestioned and unrebuked ; the tired 
father of the house whose slender earnings support parents 
as well as wife and children toils painfully from the fields to 
eat his simple supper and recover his spirits. The pitcher, 
full of grape juice, is brought to the doorway, and if the 
alcalde, the apothecary, the priest or the schoolmaster 
should pass, he will be invited to taste the contents. 
The most careless traveller, coming from a land full of 
pavements and main-drains, will realize that a spirit of 
happiness, not inferior to anything he has ever known, 
has taken up its abode in these squalid alleys and that 
save for death and the tax-collector the people have few 
troubles. 

Let us ask permission to enter the home of the sturdy 
vine-dresser who just passed us with a civil good-night 
The door is low and admits to a living-room leading in its 
turn to a kitchen through whose big, bell-shaped chimney 
inquisitive stars are peeping down upon the faggots from the 



IN A SPANISH VILLAGE 221 

vineyard that our friend has just placed on the smoking 
straw, a couple of pots {pucheros) are simmering and giving 
out their pleasant suggestion of the national dish awaiting 
a hungry man. Under the living-room is the cellar reached 
by a trap-door, and here, in huge earthenware, tar-lined jars 
{tinajas\ is the goodman's store of wine. It is made in 
simplest fashion possible. Ripe grapes are thrown into the 
vessel. Honey is added to sweeten it, lime to clear it, and 
a few weeks after fermentation the wine can be drawn off 
into the pigskins, quite clear and ready for use, if it be 
intended for home consumption. Returning to the living- 
room on our way to the street, we may notice the ladder- 
like staircase leading to the bedrooms in which young and 
old must herd together. 

In all Doquiera there is but a single house of any preten- 
sion below the plaza. It stands in one of the alleys on the 
site of half a dozen hovels that have been cleared away ; it 
is four-square and hideous, with green wooden shutters, and 
built round a patio in which nothing was ever known to 
thrive. Here the cacique dwells on the site of the hovel in 
which he was born, one of ten children, of whom he is the 
sole survivor. He is now past the prime of life, but keen- 
eyed and keen-witted, owner of much surrounding land and 
considerable interests in the provincial city to which the 
coche makes its daily progress. He has a wife from a far 
province who has no part or parcel in Doquiera's social life. 
How she lives in that squalid quarter that has for her no 
sentimental associations, is a mystery of which there is no 
solution. She is said to have two sons but they are away 
studying at one of the Universities. Friends she has none ; 
the Church is her only bond of union with the life around 
her. And the cacique himself, grave, self-controlled and 
scheming to the last, does he find consolation for all he 



222 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

has done to establish his present position in the thought 
that he has substituted an ugly house for a picturesque 
mud hovel, and amassed money for his children to spend ? 
This is yet another of the secrets that Doquiera refuses to 
reveal. 



CHAPTER XVIII 

LIFE IN THE COUNTRY-SIDE 

ALTHOUGH this chapter sets out another aspect of 
Spanish life, its story still lingers round Doquiera, 
where the toil and travail of the day assume many varied 
aspects. Our village is fortunate beyond the most that lie 
in little white heaps upon the sierra, like the tiny white eggs 
on an ant-hill. For some of the land around the village 
belongs to the villagers themselves. The plots are small- 
small as those that the Italian labourer builds up with so 
much labour and love in terraces along the mountain-side. 
But the produce of each little holding suffices, though not 
too fully, to keep the pangs of hunger from some tapia 
hovel of the kind we have visited, and out of the labourer's 
long day in the field comes the wherewithal to purchase the 
pig whose precious limbs hang smoked from the ceiling, 
whilst some of the less distinguished parts of his corpulent 
body have been treated in manner known best to the 
Spanish housewife, and stand in covered jars upon the 
kitchen shelf or in the cellar. In the cellar, too, the tar-lined 
earthenware vats, filled with the pure juice of the grape, are 
replenished out of the proceeds of labour on the small plot, 
which, although it may be scattered and one part may be 
half an hour from another, would not, if put all together, 
cover a couple of acres. In Doquiera there is no agrarian 
problem. Less fortunate country districts have a landowner 
who employs all the available male labour in the neighbour- 

223 



224 



HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 



hood, paying no better wages than will suffice to keep body 
and soul on terms of acquaintance rather than intimacy. 
In such parts any small plot belonging to a labouring man 
must be worked by his wife, and when we remember that 
it may be half an hour's walk from the village, and that she 
must look after her house and her children in the intervals 
of toiling under a blazing sun, it is not hard to understand 
why the infantile mortality is so high. And yet the instinct 
of the Spaniard to have a definite interest of his own, 
however small, is always in evidence. In parts of Spain 
where the poor man is landless, in such districts, for instance, 
as parts of Soria and the Batuecos, which are said to be as 
poverty-stricken as any corner of Europe, the Spaniard con- 
trives to keep a pig and a few fowls, one and all as gaunt 
and hungry as himself. He must be hard pressed at times 
to provide the very meagre allowance necessary to keep 
them alive. But they serve to suggest to him a feeling of 
comparative independence, and he would deem himself an 
outcast if he had no live stock at all. 

In Doquiera there are but three landlords who employ 
labour. The cacique is one, and of course the largest ; longo 
intervallo^ the grocer follows ; the last of the men of 
means and mark is ih^ for aster o^ a stranger who recently 
started a small huerta^ and has had the amazing presump- 
tion to import new-fangled agricultural implements all the 
way from Barcelona— implements that no priest has ever 
blessed, presumably because they were invented by the 
devil. To make matters worse, and still further to show 
his indifference to honourable and established custom, the 
forastero bottles his wine though everybody in Doquiera 
knows that wine in bottles is never worth drinking. Even 
the cacique and the grocer would not venture upon the 
modern road that the forasterOy who comes from across the 



LIFE IN THE COUNTRY-SIDE 225 

plains, travels over so gaily, and one regrets to add so pro- 
fitably. Small wonder if when some of Doquiera's most 
pious women-folk pass th.^ forastero on the plaza, they avert 
their heads and make the sign of the cross, suspecting that 
he is no better than an atheist 

Let us pay a visit to the huerta of one of Doquiera's hus- 
bandmen — a tall, lean, sunburnt man, extremely shabby, 
prematurely aged by toil but very well contented with his 
lot in life. Perhaps as the result of his labours on some acre 
and a half of land he earns the equivalent of two pounds 
a month, perhaps twenty-five pounds a year. Of this 
modest sum not more than six pounds will be in cash, de- 
rived from the sale of some five or six pigskins of wine, sold 
in March or April before the tax-collector makes his annual 
call. The trifle that the tax-collector leaves behind him 
will go to buy the family clothes and such groceries as 
cannot be secured through the medium of the system of 
barter that will be presently explained. 

Our friend, known in Doquiera as Tio Paco, though his 
baptismal name is Francisco Jose Sanchez y Perez, divides 
his huerta into several parts. There is the small vegetable 
garden in which he raises potatoes, beans, peas, onions, 
garlic, lettuces, and cucumbers, all of which require careful 
and constant watering. On a patch apart he grows the 
garbanzos which have learnt to thrive on a dry soil. Beyond 
this vegetable garden — around which a few fruit-trees are 
scattered — we come to a small olivar or olive orchard con- 
taining a score of gnarled veterans whose produce in a good 
year is quite remarkable. The age of the trees would 
suggest that they were supplying Doquiera with olives in 
the far-off days when Christopher Columbus was explaining 
his hopes, in vain, to Ferdinand and Isabella, and doubtless 
it is only antiquity that has robbed the fruit of most of its 
15 



226 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

quality. When the fruit is ripe Tio Paco takes it to a friend 
who has an olive press, and in payment of his friend's services 
leaves an agreed measure of the oil behind. The olives from 
which the oil has been extracted are given to the pig, and 
any surplus goes on to the land as manure. If Tio Paco 
should grow wheat under his olive-trees, he takes the harvest 
to the miller who grinds it for him on similar terms to those 
exacted by the owner of the oil press, and the flour then 
goes to the baker who keeps back a certain proportion in 
return for his task of turning the bulk into loaves. It will 
be seen that money does not often change hands in Doquiera. 
Beyond the olivar is the vina (vineyard) looking of course 
to the south. The vines are very old, and straggle over the 
ground in fashion that would shock a Frenchman from 
the Midi, but it must be remembered that the dreaded 
phylloxera has never acquired a strong foothold in Spain, 
and although the opinion is fairly general both in France 
and Germany that the Spaniard entrusts his vineyards to 
Providence, the belief is not altogether well founded, or it is 
at least founded upon incomplete knowledge. To be sure, 
the cura blesses Tio Paco's vineyard every year, and for 
anything the writer knows to the contrary, this blessing may 
avail to keep the phylloxera away. But our friend is aware 
that if he wishes to handle one hundred and fifty pesetas 
and face the tax-gatherer with confidence, he must leave 
nothing to luck or even to the good services of the cura. 
All through the day at critical seasons of the year he labours 
among his vines, and if he cannot treat them in strictly 
modern fashion or give them the chemical dressing so 
necessary in Germany and France, the wine is no worse on 
this account. In the last-named countries the ravages of 
the phylloxera have weakened the vines to such an extent 
that these dressings are absolutely necessary. 



LIFE IN THE COUNTRY-SIDE 227 

Tio Paco has both red and white grapes in his vineyard, 
the former supremely sour, the latter delightfully sweet. 
When vintage approaches Tio Paco's neighbours come to 
his assistance and he goes to theirs. Each man knows that 
it would be impossible to harvest the grapes unaided, and 
although our friend has been the father of twelve children 
only five survive, and of these only one — Paquito — is old 
enough to help in the fields. Sometimes Tio Paco hires 
a little assistance, and two or three women may be seen 
labouring in his vina. But no money changes hands : he 
pays for their services with some corn or wine or oil which 
will serve perhaps to replenish the store of a family that can 
only hope to face the winter with the aid of occasions like 
these. 

If you go very carefully through our friend's huerta^ you 
will find in some unfrequented corner one or two tobacco 
plants whose white flowers are obliging enough to lose the 
greater part of their insistence under the blaze of light that 
falls upon them. It may be doubted whether in any year 
Tio Paco can collect as much as a quarter of a pound of 
tobacco from this secret storehouse. He knows too that if 
one of the guarda monies were to see the tobacco plants 
there would be trouble, associated with a considerable fine 
if not with imprisonment. But Tio Paco is a sportsman 
and a sufficiently good Spaniard to hate the Government. 
So the tobacco plants persist, and year after year the 
worthy man smokes a few cigarettes of his own making, 
or even gives a small handful to the guarda inonte who, 
being a civil man, not averse from the good things of life, 
accepts it with a smile that speaks volumes. 

We must turn aside for a moment to say a few kindly 
words about Tio Paco's friend, the guarda monte, and ex- 
plain why he happens to exist. Beyond the area of the 



228 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

cultivated land the country belongs to the Government. 
On the mountain-sides clad with oak and pine up to the 
point at which the ilex-trees begin, there is plenty of valu- 
able timber, and there are partridges and rabbits. The last 
named may be shot in due season by those who have a 
licence, and it is the guarda monte's business, in theory at 
least, to see that the close season is observed and that every 
sportsman has taken out a licence. The guarda must also 
see that trees are not cut down, and his task is the more 
responsible one because the village folk are so careless. 
They have quite a bad memory for close seasons ; they 
really have no money to pay for licences. Then again 
there are times when they are short of fuel and are apt to 
forget that some useful tree within easy distance of the 
huerta is Government property. On other occasions there 
will be a great demand for fish, and somebody may have a 
little bit of explosive that will save all need for a long trial 
of the angler's skill. It is not difficult to see that the con- 
tingencies likely to arise provide ample occupation for the 
two guarda monies attached to the district who really work 
very hard for their very small pay. 

Spain is essentially a land of concessions. The guarda 
mantes must justify their existence but have no occasion to 
be too brutal in the exercise of their office. They must be 
diplomatic too, else how are they to deal with their old 
friend the cura^ who was never known to purchase a game 
licence but who never goes walking without his gunstick 
and does not take count of the season when his good ama 
tells him that the pot is crying aloud for a partridge or a 
rabbit ? The guarda monte cannot take official cognizance 
of any irregularities, but he may drop a friendly word to the 
cura to say that on the morrow, or the day following, his 
duties will take him in a certain direction, and the cura is 



LIFE IN THE COUNTRY-SIDE 229 

quick enough to gather that it is quite safe to go in 
another. In the same way the guarda monte would not 
tolerate the existence of a tobacco plantation on any huerta, 
but if a man likes to grow two or three modest tobacco 
plants in some retired spot, the guarda monte will make a 
few cigarettes out of part of the produce, and console him- 
self, if consolation be necessary, with the pleasant thought 
that it will be all the same a hundred years hence. Many 
of the guarda monies in remote Spanish villages, of which 
Doquiera is a tithe, are friends of the poor. They have 
intimate knowledge of the bitterness of the struggle for life, 
and if a hungry man should help himself to a rabbit or 
partridge out of season and without a licence, it is more 
than likely that nothing will be said unless the words take 
the form of a hint to be more careful in future. If, on the 
other hand, men who have no excuse for poverty raid the 
Government lands, the guarda monte will prove a very tough 
customer. For he carries a carbine, has the right to use it at 
discretion, and finds the weight of a weapon that is seldom 
used very trying to his arm and his patience. It must not 
be imagined that the authorities in Madrid are altogether 
in ignorance of the conditions prevailing on the country- 
side, or that they would alter them very materially if they 
could. To live and let live is the Government policy in 
dealing with the village folk who endure poverty so cheer- 
fully and give little or no trouble to the authorities. If 
they were political agitators their lot in life would be 
altogether harder. 

Returning to Tio Paco's huerta for a last look round, we 
shall find that he has a small plantation of well-tended 
fig-trees which yield an abundance of fine fruit in due season. 
By the time the figs are fully ripe, the pigs that have been 
allowed to roam at will over the mountain-side, where the 



230 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

goats are also grazing, are being brought in for fattening 
against the great day of Todos los Santos, and the ravages 
of dysentery and infantile cholera are checked to some very 
small extent by the practice of giving the bulk of the un- 
sound fruit to the pigs. The rest of his harvest is dried by 
Tio Paco who disposes of the store to the grocer in ex- 
change for sugar, chocolate and salt, and the grocer in 
his turn packs the figs carefully to send them to some 
big city where they will command a ready sale. It will be 
seen that with the exception of the wine no part of Tio 
Paco's produce is paid for in cash, and it may be in a 
very good year Tio Paco will barter one tinaja of wine 
in the village, and by so doing both parties to the bargain 
will avoid the consumo, which is only levied on goods bought 
and sold in the ordinary way of business. There is little 
occasion to wonder that Tio Paco, for all his hard work 
and relative prosperity, never becomes a rich man. Year 
in, year out he labours, but it must be a prosperous year 
indeed in which he can carry fifty pesetas to the grocer for 
investment against the night that comes wherein no man 
may work. He tells you over a cigarette and a copa de 
aguardiente how he has worked his land for four and twenty 
years, and he confesses that he is well satisfied with the 
result of his labours. Doquiera regards him as one of the 
prosperous, speaks of him as though he were a capitalist, 
and yet it is unlikely that out of the produce of nearly 
a quarter century of labour Tio Paco has saved as much 
as twenty pounds. Happily for Doquiera this is wealth. 
Not many a Spanish village of such dimensions can boast 
a labourer who has put by as much, and this small fortune 
has only been amassed by dint of hard labour all day and 
nearly every day throughout the year. 

Night comes in fascinating guise to Doquiera which 



LIFE IN THE COUNTRY-SIDE 231 

knows little light save that of oil lamps and stars. The 
village is not given to dissipation, the hours spent in the 
fields are too long and too arduous, the hour of rising too 
small and the cost of oil too large. The crudest of crude 
olive oil, the kind of thing that Tio Paco extracts from his 
time-worn olivar^ serves to feed the lamps which shine fit- 
fully from the huts of the labourers, and the reek of the 
oil does not add to the attraction of the living-room. The 
cafe and the taberna boast nothing better than smoky 
lights, and this religious dimness may account for the fact 
that patrons leave so soon. Even at the less busy season 
of the year, when all Doquiera has gone to bed, the 
sereno keeps watch and ward over the guiltless streets. 
He is a very old man and carries a horn lantern in one 
hand and a spear in the other. An agile lad of fourteen 
could deprive him of both, but in all the years of his ill- 
paid duty he can recall no exciting moment, save when a 
volume of smoke issuing from the taberna warned him 
that something had caught fire. For many months after- 
wards his promptitude was acknowledged in copitas de 
aguardiente^ and since that time Doquiera has slept peace- 
fully, conscious that no evil can approach its dwellings. 
The peaceful sleeping can only be acquired with some 
difficulty and patience by the visitors of Doquiera, because 
it is part of the serends duty to record the passing of the 
night and take upon himself the labours of the meteoro- 
logical office. It is also seemly for him to start the 
recitals with which he shatters the silence of the night- 
hour by an invocation to the Virgin. Ave Maria Santhima, 
Las doce son^y serena. The cry lingers in our ears long 
after time and place have combined to remove it and 
brings Spain back as surely as the call of the flower-sellers 
or the scent of the market-place, or the sight of the road to 



232 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

the -Plaza de Toros on a Sunday afternoon. These return 
to us in the mirage of dreams and wake us with a sense 
of regret to the truth that we are not in Spain. In all 
Doquiera nothing emphasizes the old-world life and mood 
so definitely as the serends cry. 

There is one other cry, almost as old-fashioned as the 
serends^ far less agreeable to hear, and having its origin in 
some forgotten century. This is a cry in which all the 
youth of the village join eagerly when it is announced that 
some widow, instead of resting content with the memory 
of the beloved departed, has decided to take to herself a 
second husband. Doquiera would not excite itself if one 
of its few widowers were to take the risk of a second wife, 
but when the proprietress of the estanco decided not so very 
long ago to change her state (gossips said she did no more 
than regulate it), Doquiera was wildly excited. The good 
widow gave up a comfortable little position to marry her 
querido — none other than th^forastero to whose farm refer- 
ence was made on an earlier page. She was quite popular 
in the village, but the whole sentiment of rural Spain is 
opposed to the marriage of widows, perhaps because men, 
being in a minority, the number of spinsters must be 
thereby increased. On the night when Dofia Dolores was 
re-wedded, Doquiera's youth armed with tin cans, kettles, 
whistles, and every noise-producing instrument they could 
think of, serenaded \h^ forasterd s farm a little way beyond 
the village, and shouted extremely ribald verses taught by the 
local rhyme-maker and sung to a jota. All this procedure 
associated with the cencerrada is strictly sin malicia^ i.e. 
harmless, and though the /orastero and the buxom lady of 
his choice were doubtless considerably disturbed and not a 
little vexed, they were wise enough to take no offence at 
the interruption. In fact, before the score or more of village 



LIFE IN THE COUNTRY-SIDE 233 

roysterers had sung their indecent rhymes half a dozen times 
over, the forasterd s head-man Pablo made his way from the 
kitchen with a big pitcher of wine which was handed round 
to the serenaders and thegudrdia civil vjho had accompanied 
them in the interests of law and order. The little timely 
gift changed the whole mood of the company ; the offensive 
verses were dropped, thejota resumed its proper words, the 
only shouts were those of ^// (bravo !), and the small company 
straggled back under the stars to mud huts and well-earned 
repose. 

Another form of serenade practised in Doquiera, and of 
course in every Spanish village, is the Christmas carol. For 
a few nights before Christmas little children go from house 
to house singing to the tune of some familiar Jota lines 
associated with the Story of the Nativity. He must be 
poor indeed who cannot spare a trifle for these young sere- 
naders, and though money is very scarce in Doquiera, sweets 
and fruit are always given, and the babies, to whom such 
luxuries come rarely, look forward throughout the year to 
the nights when their simple songs will be welcomed by 
those who in some respects are childlike as themselves. 
Kindness to children in Spain is as universal as cruelty to 
animals. 

We must be leaving Doquiera soon now, but before 
following the road elsewhere it is only right to mention the 
great rural procession of the year, taken at the time of the 
feria^ to bring to Doquiera the effigy of the local virgin, " la 
de la Sangre," from her resting-place in the old convent 
that stands five miles away on a spur of the sierra. To 
bring the saint to the church all Doquiera takes holiday, 
and rambles slowly at its ease over the dry sandy ways 
leading to the hills. The occasion is almost a picnic : the 
men carry their botUy the women's baskets are filled with 



234 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

tortillas and fruit. All work on the huerta is suspended, 
and Doquiera seems to be left in charge of the few decrepit 
old folk who are unfit to take the journey. In his heart of 
hearts it may be that Doquiera's santo padre feels that his 
fourteen stone of weight distributed over a height of five 
feet five inches was never intended for a ten-mile journey, 
but he makes the best of it, and tramps along happily, 
like Falstafif of old, "larding the lean earth as he walks 
along '\ When he reaches the last huerta on the path 
— that of his affluent friend the forastero, he asks for a 
mule ; it is his annual request and is always granted, and 
for the rest of the day his fatigue is forgotten. He has 
been seen on the way back, when the mule has been restored 
to its master, moving rather unsteadily before the effigy of 
the Virgin, but it will be remembered that King David 
himself danced before the ark, and it may be that the 
padre cura does no more than seek to imitate the historic 
example. Let us remember too that the day has been hot 
and the journey long, and that every bota has been offered 
to the santo padre whose thirst is inexhaustible. After all it 
is an annual holiday, and if the worthy little man needs a 
friendly arm or two to help him up the hill leading into 
Doquiera, there is no lack of aid, and men say with satis- 
faction that their cura is human like themselves and con- 
sequently liable to err. 

The procession is always attended by the guardia civile 
and though the effigy is carried by men, it is the women 
whose state of ecstasy is remarkable. The most of them 
are united in a sisterhood that works during the year to 
make a new and splendid cloak for the Virgen de la Sangre. 
Dofia Serafina, from the casa senorial^ is the moving spirit 
of this sisterhood ; all her wasted womanhood seems to be 
stimulated by the occasion, and she turns an indulgent eye 



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p?*; 


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PI 


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LIFE IN THE COUNTRY-SIDE 235 

upon the accompanying spirit of revelry in which she takes 
no part Although the whole journey does not cover more 
than ten miles, evening has arrived before the last stragglers 
join the procession outside the village and the effigy reaches 
the Plaza de la Constitucion to an accompaniment of lanterns 
and torches, past the pig-strewn, malodorous alleys and 
little by-ways in which late fowls and inquisitive goats 
manage to get in everybody's way, though perhaps the 
fault is not altogether theirs. With all befitting solemnity 
the effigy is carried to the front of the high altar. Doquiera's 
best candles are lighted to do honour to the occasion, and 
the effigy rests in peace until the following morning brings 
the hour of the official procession. For nine days following 
the state procession a service is held in her honour every 
afternoon and then she is carried back again to her convent. 
No universal holiday marks the return journey. The men 
of Doquiera remember that they must work for the right 
to live, and they leave to their women-folk the honour of 
accompanying their santo padre and \}s\q, guardia civil. 



CHAPTER XIX 

LOTTERIES IN SPAIN 

BEFORE you have been very long in Madrid, your first 
slumbers may be disturbed one night just before 
twelve o'clock by one of the city's most significant street 
cries. 

" Sale mafiana ! '' cries some hoarse voice under your 
window if you chance to sleep in a room that looks out 
over the street and not over the patio ; " Mafiana sale " — 
with the last syllable long-drawn out, as if the crier wished 
to stretch it into the coming day — " quien quiere la suerte? " 

(The draw takes place to-morrow. Who's looking for 
luck ?) 

The voice passes slowly down a street, wholly silent to 
its appeal. 

" Tengo el gordo " (I hold the lucky number) ; the solitary 
voice is making its closing appeal, and the tone is one that 
does not suggest much association with good luck. 

These last words are just audible as you turn back to 
your pillow with an uneasy feeling that you and fortune 
have come together for a moment like ships that pass in the 
night, and that the blind lady is moving perhaps for all time 
beyond your ken. But do not despair. Yet another ten 
days and the same quavering cry shall seek, this time in 
vain, to summon you to complete wakefulness. You will 
reflect that if the poor crier of the roadway really held the 

336 



LOTTERIES IN SPAIN 237 

prize, he would be comfortably in bed as you are, and 
would not be crying through the blind night for one to rid 
him of the burden of his riches. If you were to say as much 
to him, meeting him in the street and noting his lean, im- 
poverished appearance and the rags that cling to him, 
seemingly more by accident than design, I do not think he 
would argue with you ; he would merely shuffle off flat-footed 
over ithe hard pavement, and the long-drawn call, ** Sale 
mafiana ! Tengo el gordo ! " would baffle you as surely as 
it consoles him. Who knows ? May not to-morrow's sorteo 
hold for him the good fortune that so many years have 
denied ; may not the stone that you have rejected become 
the headstone of the corner ? Are there not stories current 
throughout the length and the breadth of Spain of men who, 
in the last hours of the night before the sorteo^ have bought 
a tenth of a ticket, or perhaps two-tenths, from one of these 
shadowy, poverty-stricken ambulantes who has vanished into 
the night leaving them rich beyond the dreams of avarice ? 
Is not the choice of a ticket hedged round with more super- 
stition than the choice of a number on the green baize 
playing-ground of Monte Carlo's salle de jeu ? Every 
Spaniard knows that there are certain ambulantes who " carry 
luck " — generally at the expense of some physical defor- 
mity ; they have paid for their capacity as Wotan paid 
for worldly wisdom with the loss of one eye, though in this 
connexion there are some who are heard to say that this 
was just Wotan's story, and that some domestic disagree- 
ment with his angry wife must have been the real cause 
of his loss. 

The lottery system has eaten into the heart of Spain. In 
all probability it arose through the State recognition that 
private lotteries were a source of immense profit to those 
associated with them. They pandered to the gambling 



238 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

spirit that is inherent in man, while, handled with care and 
honesty, they promised a very considerable addition to State 
revenues. To-day Spain holds thirty-six lotteries in the 
year ; the tickets are issued in Madrid and sent broadcast 
into the country ; the sorteo is held in the capital, in the 
Casa de la Moneda or Mint, and the drawings are entrusted 
to some child from the Orphan Asylum ^ who may generally 
rely upon the life patronage of the fortunate ticket-holder 
who draws a first prize, or to a handsome gift if the prize 
be shared by many competitors. Numbers, corresponding 
to each lottery ticket, are printed on little white balls and 
thrown into a huge wire cage which revolves rapidly. In 
the presence of the Board of Administration and other 
officials who are on the platform, and of a large body of the 
general public in the hall, the numbers are drawn and tele- 
graphed all over Spain. Those Englishmen who look askance 
at the lottery and rejoice to think that we have nothing of 
the kind in England, would do well to remember that the 
" Extra Special Edition " with its tipsters' selections and 
latest news from Newmarket and other racing centres finds 
no counterpart in Spain, so that our superiority to our 
neighbours is more apparent than real. The lottery im- 
poverishes the country, but it may be doubted whether it 
does so quite as cruelly as horse-racing impoverishes a con- 
siderable class in England, and the large profits made by the 
State which taxes all prizes to the extent of ten per cent, go 
to the reduction of taxation. Moreover, every ticket-holder 
has a fair chance, from the beggar in the gutter who owns 
the tenth part of the tenth part of a thirty peseta ticket — 
costing him threepence — to the rich banker who has taken 
several tickets costing a thousand pesetas a piece in the 

^ The Blue-coat boys used to draw at the Guildhall lottery in the eighteenth 
century. 



LOTTERIES IN SPAIN 239 

great lottery of Navidad (Christmas), which is drawn for 
annually in December. 

The lottery is popular in Spain. The newspapers stimu- 
late the interest in it to a very considerable extent by tell- 
ing with amplest detail the full story of the fortunate few. 
When the Christmas lottery is drawn, reporters and photo- 
graphers hurry from the great cities — if hurry be a permis- 
sible term when used in connexion with Spanish trains — to 
seek the fortunate winner of the first prize who may live 
somewhere at the back of beyond. His photograph adorns 
or disfigures every newspaper ; the remotest details of his 
home-life, the food he eats, the clothes he wears, the political 
doctrines he favours — each and all are matters of intense 
public interest, and for the time at least no happening of 
wide-world importance has an equal interest for Spain. 

The three monthly lotteries vary considerably in the price 
of the ticket. The most expensive is the hundred peseta 
ticket for which the prizes are drawn on the tenth of the 
month ; this is subscribed to very largely by the upper 
classes. The first prize in this lottery is worth three hundred 
thousand pesetas (twelve thousand pounds). On the twen- 
tieth or twenty-first of the month, the fifty peseta lottery 
reaches the sorteo and the first prize is worth two hundred 
thousand pesetas. On the thirtieth or thirty-first, the very 
popular thirty peseta lottery is drawn, and the first prize wins 
a hundred and fifty thousand pesetas. From all these sums, 
which do not of course represent all the prizes in each 
lottery, the Government takes its ten per cent tax, which the 
winner can well afford to spare. The system of prize-giving 
is conceived on a very generous scale, and hundreds of prizes 
accompany each drawing, so that the ultimate profit to the 
State is very considerable. In addition to these profits the 
State can safely reckon upon a certain number of unclaimed 



240 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

prizes. Some tickets have been destroyed or lost or for- 
gotten and the smaller prizes cannot be claimed after a 
twelvemonth. Big prizes are always payable without re- 
striction in point of time, but some very large amounts have 
never found a claimant, and the official lists are only 
published between the drawing of one lottery and the 
drawing of the next. When we remember the vast number 
of illiterate in Spain, the fact that prizes are sometimes un- 
claimed ceases to be surprising. 

Every ticket, whether it cost a hundred, fifty, or thirty 
pesetas, or whether it be issued in the annual Christmas 
lottery, and cost a thousand pesetas (when the first prize is 
worth five million pesetas, or one hundred and eighty thou- 
sand pounds, after taxation), is divided into ten equal parts 
called decimos, and this division is extremely popular, for it 
enables those who have not enough money to buy a whole 
ticket, to purchase a tenth at an issuing office. This tenth 
he can share with as many friends as he cares to invite, and 
it is no uncommon thing for the big prize to find its ulti- 
mate division among fifty or more subscribers to the lucky 
number. For example, among the middle classes one man 
may purchase a decimo of a ticket in the Christmas lottery 
and admit nine friends to share it with him, and if he should 
have drawn the winning number, they will all draw two 
thousand pounds apiece, less Government tax, for their out- 
lay often pesetas. Among the very poor the decimo of the 
cheap monthly lottery, which costs three pesetas, may be 
divided among a dozen who will pay a real, and for this 
real, if their luck be in, they will draw forty-five pounds net, 
more than they can earn by two years' hard labour on the 
land. Small wonder then that the lottery is popular, and 
that the enthusiasts tend to forget how small their chance 
of success really is. 



LOTTERIES IN SPAIN 241 

It IS a point not only of honour but of practical impor- 
tance to pay for the share of a decimo as soon as it is taken. 
For if a man sell an interest or interests in his decimo to 
friends who do not pay up before the sorteo^ and his ticket 
draws a winning number, he is entitled by the custom of the 
country to refuse to acknowledge a transaction that was 
never completed. As the lottery is surrounded by the 
quaintest and grossest superstition of every conceivable 
kind, few people make any delay in paying for their share, 
because to do' so is to destroy the ticket's luck. Many of 
the superstitions hinted at may be seen in working order on 
any day in Spain. Thus, if a man should see a woman refuse 
a ticket offered by an ambulante in the street, he may know 
in his own mind that she has refused a winning number, 
and promptly buy what she has rejected with an amazing 
confidence that experience is powerless to reduce. The 
converse may hold good, and a woman may hasten to buy 
the ticket that a man has rejected. Certain ambulantes are 
said to bring luck and can sell tickets very freely. Others 
have their lucky hours or lucky days, and can do a thriving 
business when they come round. Certain people have lucky 
numbers or lucky days, or think they have — which is almost 
as satisfactory ; others have their systems, as elaborate, as 
carefully worked out, and as futile as those of the profes- 
sional gambler at any hell of European repute where bacca- 
rat, roulette, and trente-et-quarente enjoy the protection of 
some shabby little State or country. The most popular 
system of lottery gambling consists in taking a certain series 
of numbers year after year in the belief that sooner or later 
the hand of the orphan schoolboy must move in their direc- 
tion. And the odd, half-pathetic aspect of this mania is 
seen when you meet some elderly clerk or Government 
employe who, for thirty years or more, has followed blind 
16 



242 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

fortune along the line of his own principles without being 
rewarded by a solitary smile, and who yet goes three times 
a month to the issuing office to spend the money he can so 
ill spare, with the firm conviction that the next drawing 
will find him with the decimo of the coveted gordo (literally, 
the fat one). 

Cynics have said the lottery is the one branch of Spanish 
administration that is conducted honestly. Without going 
as far as this, it may be acknowledged that, as far as the 
Government and the Bank of Spain are concerned, the 
business of the lottery is cleverly and skilfully handled on 
thoroughly practical lines. A certain number of shopkeepers 
throughout the country are specially licensed to sell lottery 
tickets. They may not carry on any other business in this 
shop, and they receive a small salary and a tiny commis- 
sion on the sale of tickets. Tickets bearing the same num- 
ber are issued to them every time, so that the buyers who 
wish to obtain a ticket in a certain series know where to go 
for it. Inside the shop the prizes which have been drawn 
from tickets sold there are recorded on the wall, and as the 
list lengthens patronage increases. These shops must render 
the strictest account to the Government, and are entrusted 
with the payment over the counter of small prizes gained 
by lottery tickets in their charge; for the big ones, the 
winner goes to the Bank of Spain or to one of its branches 
in the provinces. At a certain stated time before the sorteoy 
every unsold ticket must be returned to the administration 
in Madrid, or to the local offices in provincial districts or the 
numbers of the unsold tickets telegraphed to head-quarters. 
It has happened time out of mind that among these tickets 
returned has been the one drawn on the following day for 
the biggest prize. For all tickets not returned the expende- 
dor — as the shopkeeper is called — is responsible to the 



LOTTERIES IN SPAIN 243 

Government ; he it is who sends the ragged ambulante on 
the grounds with a certain number of decimos each bearing 
the stamp of the shop where it was issued, and the result of 
the ambulante' s labours depend very largely upon his luck. 
His regular remuneration is a tiny commission that cannot 
possibly suffice to keep body and soul together ; but if he 
should have the good luck to sell a winning decimo, he may 
reasonably expect to receive a handsome tip from his cus- 
tomer. Some of these men have been so fortunate in the 
sale of their decimos that they have quite a following — ^just 
as the shops from which fortunate numbers are issued, are 
regarded with special favour and receive an ever-increasing 
amount of public support. 

Curiously enough the revival of prosperity in Spain has 
not benefited the lottery system, and one hears that the 
number of unsold tickets, particularly those in the cheaper 
lotteries, increases steadily, so that the profit to the State 
would be considerably reduced if it did not become auto- 
matically a leading shareholder in its own gamble, and draw 
a certain proportion of the prizes. On the other hand, the 
sale of lottery tickets abroad has increased very consider- 
ably, although Cuba and the Philippines, which used to ab- 
sorb so many, are no longer in the hands of Spain. Spain's 
increasing commerce has brought to the country a large 
number of foreigners who have heard of the lottery for the 
first time and have surrendered to its dubious attractions, and 
to-day there is a very brisk business in the sale of the higher- 
priced lottery tickets to foreign countries, and the adminis- 
tration finds it profitable to advertise its big lotteries abroad. 
It would not surprise many close observers of Spanish life 
if the thirty and fifty peseta lotteries are abandoned in a few 
years by the Spanish Government and another loteria de 
lujo {de luxe) is added to the Loteria de Navidad. 



244 



HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 



Although the administration is quite incorruptible in its 
dealing with the lottery, certain systems of swindling in 
connexion with it are not unknown, and chief among these 
is the custom among certain unscrupulous people of selling 
more shares of their tickets than the tickets possess. For 
example, a rogue who purchases a whole ticket may sell 
countless shares of a decimo until the whole ticket has 
yielded him twice or thrice its face value. He may con- 
tinue to do this for a long time with comparative impunity, 
trusting in the heavy odds that stand between him and a 
prize. Should he be so unfortunate as to gain a little in 
one of the sorteos, he may find it advisable to pay up cheer- 
fully, but if the crowning disaster of a big prize should fall 
his way, his only chance of safety lies in quick presentation 
of his ticket at the bank, where all tickets are recognized 
without inquiry, and a prompt departure to fresh fields of 
less onerous activity. There are plenty of people in Spain 
to-day who can tell sad stories of winnings that should have 
come their way but were intercepted by some cunning rogue, 
who, let us hope, has given a part of his profits to the build- 
ing of an altar in the church of the village of his nativity. 
It may go hard with him else in the world to come. 

It would be easy to fill a volume, to say nothing of a 
chapter, with stories of the sudden fortune that the lottery 
has brought to the poorest of the poor. They may be read 
throughout the year in the Spanish press, and when el sorteo 
de Navidad comes round the old legends or histories of the 
fortunes it has bestowed are brought to light in much the 
same way as our turf historian recalls the incidents and 
sensations of past Derby days. The press does much for 
the lottery in Spain, and its stories of sudden wealth serve 
to allure simple country-folk, servant girls, shopkeepers 
assistants, small civil servants and others to the expendeduriay 



LOTTERIES IN SPAIN 245 

as the will-o'-the-wisp lures the night-stricken sportsman on 
the Albufera of Valencia, where he has waited too long for 
his last shot at the wild duck, and finds that the darkness 
has fallen on him unawares. Perhaps the simile could be 
justified even if it were extended, the Albufera then becom- 
ing the dangerous land of speculation, the jack o* lanterns 
the newspaper stories, and the ducks that rise almost un- 
seen and pass right out of ken with a triumphant quack and 
a great flutter of wings are the premios grandes y menores — 
larger and lesser prizes, while the ammunition that blazes 
uselessly in their wake stands for the hard-earned savings 
of the foolish fellow who left high road and hedgerows 
where his cartridge would at least have served to bring a 
cony to the pot. 

" Mafiana sale ! " 

The cry still rises unbidden to the ear as these lines are 
written a thousand miles from Spain. 



CHAPTER XX 

SPANISH INTERNAL POLICY 

THE administration of Spain, although it is extremely 
faulty judged from our national standpoint, is really 
well thought out, and enables the nation's business to be 
carried on with no small measure of success. In the old 
days when Spain was a world-empire it was the policy of 
her rulers to encourage emigration in every possible way ; 
to this line of policy we must in fairness attribute many of 
the restrictions upon industrial activity that are only now 
being modified or removed under the new conditions which 
have obtained since Spain lost the last of her important 
colonial possessions. If the administration were quite as 
effete and corrupt as it is said to be, the industrial revival 
of the past few years could never have been brought about ; 
and now that commerce and the manufacturing industries 
are in a thriving condition, and a very wealthy middle class 
is springing up, old laws and customs are losing their sanc- 
tity, the ruling classes are being forced, however reluctantly, 
into line with the spirit of the time, and are even entering 
into commercial undertakings. But the fact that Madrid is 
comparatively isolated from the rest of Spain makes the 
regeneration of the governing system a slow and laborious 
undertaking, although there is more activity in the Gov- 
ernment offices in this year of grace than there has been 

246 



SPANISH INTERNAL POLICY 247 

at any time since Alfonso XII restored the monarchy to 
Spain. Spaniards are awakening to the consciousness of 
the richness of their own territory and to a certain healthy 
jeabusy of the foreigners who have for some years past 
been quietly and profitably exploiting them. In short, 
Spaniards are now beginning to take a part in Spain's 
wealth, and the number of rich people has increased to such 
a remarkable extent in the past few years, that in certain 
social aspects Madrid may vie with the Paris and London 
of to-day. 

All national administration is centralized in Madrid. It 
is possible to trace the political work of the village cacique 
through his provincial town and the seat of local govern- 
ment in the province, to its proper government bureau in the 
capital, and if Parliament and the Senate are mere platforms 
for unmeaning eloquence, while the real government of the 
country moves almost independent of them, this phenomenon 
is not limited to Spain. We have something strangely like 
it in the immediate neighbourhood of the River Thames — 
the opposition to the party in power, be it Unionist or 
Liberal, is my authority for the suggestion. 

In the art of taxing the public thei Spanish administration 
has nothing to learn from anybody ; it could teach our own 
Chancellor of the Exchequer much that he has yet to learn. 
Taxation is direct and indirect, the direct variety being 
divided under twelve heads, each very direct indeed. Spain 
has her tax on land and land values, on areas of cultivation, 
on live stock, on manufactures, on all other business, on 
mines and mining properties as well as on the export of 
minerals, on nobility and titles, on individuals as individuals, 
on State salaries, on all deeds and documents referring to 
the transfer of property or the bequest of money or valuables. 
Another tax is levied under the head of Royal Rights 



248 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

{derechos reales). The only tax named above that re- 
quires any explanation is that upon individuals. It is 
called the cedula personal, and is a triumph of Spanish /h- 
genuity . Until you have your cedula personal you are unable 
to transact any business of a documentary nature in Spain. 
Indeed, before you can sign a paper before the notary 
public, or receive a letter that has been registered to you 
at the post office, or take a flat, or, in short, become a 
party to any contract, your cedula personal must be pro- 
duced—you really have no legal existence without it. Its 
price varies according to your social status, and this is 
estimated — if you do not belong to the nobility — by the rent 
you pay or the money you are alleged to earn. The lowest 
class pays a nominal tax of fifty centimes, and by special 
exemption — a polite euphemism for State favour — the 
Church and the military are rated at the lowest scale, so 
that his Grace the Archbishop of Toledo and the Com- 
mander-in-Chief (next to the king) of Spain's military forces 
need pay no more than their washer-woman. The scale 
rises gradually until at last it reaches the high estate of the 
Spanish grandee and the royal family whose sangre azul 
costs them over a hundred pesetas a year. Now, if Spanish 
administrators were foolish, unimaginative folk, they would 
not think of adding anything to the cedula personal 
But the municipality has nudged the elbow of the State 
and demanded to know why it should be left out of a good 
thing, and the State not being able to answer this imperti- 
nent question, has obligingly added to every cedula personal 
a 40 per cent tax for the benefit of the municipality. This 
is the municipal levy for Madrid ; in provincial centres it 
is smaller. Cunning Spaniards who have a home in the 
country, coupled with a business in a town, are very careful 
to take their cedula personal from their local alcaldia, and 



SPANISH INTERNAL POLICY 249 

in this way they are enabled to leave the municipality to 
look after itself ; but those who follow this line must walk 
warily, for the municipal tax, like the cedula itself, is farmed 
out by the Government in the larger cities, presumably in 
order to save the expense of administration and pensions, 
and the farmers are men after whose harvesting none may 
hope to glean. 

All honour to Spanish administration ! The cedula 
personal was a happy thought. The municipal addition 
was statecraft in the highest, but the genius of the country 
has evolved an addition to the impost. When the Spanish- 
American War broke out and found the exchequer empty, 
new taxes called for prompt imposition, and an additional 
10 per cent upon the cedula personal was levied without 
delay. The war has passed but the tax remains, and so 
we see that for the right to be yourself in Spain you must 
pay a triple impost. If your wife should have any business 
negotiations, or has even presented you with offspring, 
her cedula personal must go with yours when the child is 
registered, or the registration officer would not be satisfied 
of your wife's existence. Facts are things of which he will 
take no cognizance, it is the cedula personal that he wants, 
and he will not be civil until he gets it. Happily women 
pay no more than archbishops and distinguished generals — 
a recognition of women's rights and privileges that may, 
for all we know, prove the starting-point of a woman 
suffrage movement in Spain, while it provides the sex at 
the lowest possible rate with the serious grievance of 
taxation without representation. 

We have omitted from direct taxation all reference to 
the lottery which plays such an important part in Spain's 
national life, for the lottery is at best a substitute for 
taxation, inasmuch as it yields a large income to the State. 



250 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

This would need to be collected from other sources if the 
people did not respond to the Government's annual thirty- 
six applications for subscriptions. 

Blue blood is taxed in Spain, so is the mere red plebeian 
fluid that courses through the veins of those who receive a 
patent of nobility for services rendered or alleged to have 
been rendered. Titled Spain contributes over fifty pounds 
a day to the national exchequer. 

Turning from direct to indirect taxation, we find another 
series of examples of Spanish administrative genius, and 
the way in which the Government rides the public in this 
matter reminds the writer of the fashion in which the 
Moor best rides his spirited stallion. His bit consists of an 
iron spike which presses against the roof of the horse's 
mouth, and is so powerful and painful in its application 
that the strongest and most fiery animal can be pulled back 
on his haunches with comparatively small effort. When 
the Moor rides he holds the reins sufficiently tight to en- 
able him to feel his horse's mouth all the time, and remind 
his charge that his master is upon him. The impuestos in- 
directos are the spiked bit that a paternal Spanish Govern- 
ment puts into the mouth of the noble animal it guides 
over the primrosed path of dalliance. The noble horseman 
whose blood is as blue as the heavens above can remind 
the less noble animal of his presence and keep him going 
as long as he has strength to move. 

Leaving metaphors behind us and getting down to the 
solid ground of facts, we find that the indirect taxation of 
which every Spaniard complains so bitterly comes under 
six heads. The first is customs {aduanas\ and these of 
course are very heavy, for Spain is a protected country. 
Experience has taught Spaniards, and even foreigners who 
venture into Spain, that custom-house officials are men 



SPANISH INTERNAL POLICY 251 

like themselves, and we have heard of instances in which 
goods have passed the aduanas without rendering to 
Caesar the full amount that Caesar would have been justified 
in claiming. Smuggling, too, is a pleasant, profitable, and 
highly exciting pastime, and is carried on with energy and 
distinction by families who have the hereditary capacity to 
get the better of the custom-house people. Sometimes, 
both on coast and frontier, the guns go off and the 
smuggler's family must wear a little crape or burn a few 
inexpensive candles for the soul's repose of some pro- 
mising gentleman cut off in the midst of his career. But 
happily the appeal to fire-arms is the very last resort, and 
one has heard — though the statement is given with timidity 
— that pieces of paper bearing the imprint of the Bank of 
Spain are potent in afflicting with temporary blindness 
some of those who are in charge of His Most Catholic 
Majesty's Customs. 

In connexion with the aduanas the writer remembers an 
experience in the early nineties when, still in his teens, he 
went to Spain for a holiday. At Gibraltar he picked up a 
cargo boat going to Malaga and became friendly with the 
first mate, who showed him two boxes, each containing a 
hundred splendid cigars, that he had brought from London 
to a friend in Malaga who was a connoisseur and could not 
buy decent tobacco in that pleasant seaport. 

** I had a little trouble with the customs at Malaga last 
year," said the mate, " and the dogs watched as if I were a 
rat. But if I can't get these cigars past them, I'll give up 
seafaring and sell cats' meat." 

Anxious to see how it was done, I waited in the docks 
at Malaga all through a summer's day. The mate must 
have made nearly a dozen journeys to and from the town, 
and every time he passed the customs officers they 



252 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

challenged him, dug inquisitive fingers into his garments 
and expressed rude and regrettable suspicions of his bona- 
fides. He, dressed in his best clothes, and wearing a big 
bowler hat that he raised with the utmost deference every 
time he passed the angry officials, pursued the even tenor 
of his way until sundown. The boat was detained all 
night in Malaga, and we met at a cafe shortly after 
dinner. 

'* What about the cigars?" I asked the mate. 

*'A11 delivered," he said, "and not one broken. See 
here.'' 

And he handed me the hat that he had raised so cere- 
moniously to the officers in charge of the customs. It was 
filled with the most ingenious contrivance of wire clips, 
each of which would hold a cigar quite firmly. 

" It's held other things as well as cigars in its time," 
remarked the mate, " and this old hat of mine is only 

one of a bagful of tricks. I don't come out in that old " 

here he spoke disrespectfully of the good ship lying in the 
harbour, "for my health, or for what I get for being 
mate." 

One can only hope that this was a solitary instance 
and that no other British seaman has ever been guilty of 
ignoring the impuesto indirecto. I wonder if that one has 
now retired from business and if these lines will ever meet 
his eye ? 

The second indirect tax is upon food-stufifs, and is avoided 
in many Spanish villages by a system of exchange. It is 
a State tax imposed upon the municipality according to the 
number of its inhabitants. Home-made sugar, made from 
cane in Andalusia and from beet in the north, is heavily 
taxed. All loading and unloading at the ports is accom- 
panied by a tribute to the Government ; railway passengers 



SPANISH INTERNAL POLICY 253 

have an indirect tax as well as the direct tax levied during 
the war and never remitted, while theatres and places of 
amusement are under a similar contribution to the State. 
Every paper that a citizen of Spain must fill in for the pur- 
pose of making any application to the State in any of its 
branches must bear a Government stamp which varies in 
amount according to the importance of the business or the 
estimated capacity of the person who fills it in, to satisfy 
the hungry soul of the administration. ' If an application, 
whether for an appointment or an examination or a certi- 
ficate or a legal document should not be worded in strict 
accordance with the established formula, the Spanish citizen 
enjoys the privilege of writing it over again and paying a 
second time. The one surprising fact to the stranger who 
does not know his Spain is that any Minister of Finance 
should be compelled to proclaim a deficit instead of a sur- 
plus as the result of a year's devotion to the great game of 
national administration. It is only when the State pension 
list has been examined and discussed that the conditions 
can be properly accounted for. 

In Spain the clases pasivas is a national scandal of the 
first magnitude. Despite the comparative poverty of the 
country, the pension in Spain is as common as the decora- 
tion in France. Everybody who has served the State and 
loses his job through diverse reasons, is entitled to a pension, 
and as the administration of the pensions is either very 
careless or else very corrupt, thousands of pounds are paid 
away annually to those whose claims are, to say the least, 
shadowy even in Spain. Various small sinecures are in the 
gift of high officials, and it is no uncommon thing to find 
an inferior but remunerative little office given to somebody 
who not only has no acquaintance with the work involved, 
but has never striven to form any. There is no occasion 



254 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

to write in this place of pensions or offices bestowed on men 
whose wives are personce gratissimce in certain State offices, 
for this is a scandal that has been heard of in other countries 
where it is much more common than in Spain and is not 
discussed. But the pension system has eaten so deeply 
into the vitals of the country that until quite recently all 
members of the Cabinet were entitled to pensions as soon 
as they resigned their portfolios, and it was not an unusual 
thing for a scratch ministry to be convened to see some 
unpopular act of legislation passed, and then to resign, leav- 
ing it safely on the statute book. Now this scandal has 
been reduced, if not abolished, and a portfolio does not 
carry a pension unless it has been held for a year. But it 
is not the large pensions that deplete the national treasury, 
it is the countless small ones. Loyalty to party in Spain 
is a marketable commodity, and politics is a trade, as it is in 
all the Latin countries, and the only outstanding difference 
is that the other Governments are better able to pay the 
price of it. An honourable exception to the general rule 
of pensions and pay is to be found in the case of members 
of both Houses of Legislature in Spain, neither senators 
nor deputies receiving anything from the State save a few 
privileges, including a limited free pass on the railways, free 
postage, and simple refreshments in the Cortes and Senate — 
the latter being, however, a House Order relieved from State 
interference. In the case of the deputies this refreshment 
is limited to sugar-water {agua y azucarrilld) and in the 
case of senators to beef-tea {caldd). 

In this country the profits on one of the finest postal 
systems in the world amount to over a hundred thousand 
pounds a week. In Spain, one of the worst postal 
systems in Europe yields little or nothing at all, and the 
system of free postage is the more to be deplored because 



SPANISH INTERNAL POLICY 255 

it IS associated with a large number of abuses. If you have 
a friend in the Senate or the Congreso, you need pay no 
postage ; your friend is ^^ a man like any other man/' you 
are another, so you send your correspondence to him, he 
takes it to the Cortes, and the Government carries or loses 
it, without charge. Even the deputies and senators who are 
so disobliging as to refuse this timely assistance to friends 
outside the Cortes have no scruples in using their position 
to cover all their private and business correspondence, al- 
though, in theory at least, free postage is reserved for letters 
dealing with affairs of State. Of course it is a little difficult 
for a man to decide where State interests end and personal 
interests begin. Probably he argues that his presence is 
necessary in the Cortes if the regeneration of Spain is to 
become an accomplished fact, while, unless his business affairs 
are carried on along the lines of the most rigid economy, it 
will be impossible for him to shed the light of his presence 
and vast intelligence upon the House. Perhaps he doesn't 
stop to argue with himself, but is quite content to post his 
letters. 

Spain is ruled to-day under the terms of the Constitution 
of 1876, formed when the last flame of republican rule 
spluttered and went out The country is divided into more 
than four hundred electoral districts, each of which sends 
its diputado to the Cortes. The limit of the parliamentary 
term is five years, but this has seldom if ever^been reached. 
Elections are not very genuine affairs in Spain, and all 
appeals against the results must be made to the Senate and 
the Chamber of Deputies {actus graves)^ and not, as in this 
country, to the Law Court. A deputy is immune from ar- 
rest, and action only lies against him for criminal offences, 
and such action must be tried by the Supreme Court, whose 
delays are proverbial. Contested elections are few because 



2S6 



HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 



the result of the deliberation of free and independent elec- 
tors is intelligently foreseen in the high and secret places 
of Madrid. In other words, Government and Opposition 
agree between themselves upon most of the vital questions 
in connexion with a forthcoming election, and certain 
seats are reserved for certain men in consideration of past 
or future services or even present influence. This system 
of private arrangement avails to keep a large number of 
Republicans from the Cortes, and some of the many enemies 
of Sefior Maura, the late premier, have been heard to declare 
that he is a very unskilled political organiser, because in the 
days when he was Minister of the Interior and had the hand- 
ling of the elections, he was so careless that the Madrile- 
ftos were enabled to return no fewer than eight Republi- 
cans to Cortes. Had the elections been handled properly, 
that is to say, on Spanish lines, such a scandal could never 
have taken place. Happily for the peace of mind of 
governing circles, Sefior Maura has been much more careful 
since then, and as far as the Castiles are concerned, people 
who are neither Liberal nor Conservative may clamour in 
vain for entry to the stately building in the Carrera de San 
Jeronimo. 

The senators number 360 in all. Of these, under the 
Constitution of 1876, one-half are either hereditary senators 
or life-holders of the seat, and include sons of the King, 
archbishops, the captain-generals, the Lord High Admiral 
of Spain, and certain grandees. The other 180, whose 
election like that of deputies is for a period not exceeding 
five years, are sent to the Senate House by certain State 
corporations, including of course the universities and the 
academies. 

So far we have discussed senators and deputies and 
others of high degree, but in order to understand civil 



SPANISH INTERNAL POLICY 257 

government in Spain, it is necessary to start not at the 
top, where conditions are common to nearly all civilized 
countries, but from the bottom, where Spain's individu- 
ality is most clearly discernible. For the village is the 
unit of government, possesses its own privileges — though 
in ever-diminishing quantity — and points the way along 
the rough and thorny path that leads to distinction — or 
oblivion. 

Every hamlet numbering up to 800 inhabitants appoints its 
ov^n junta^ which disposes of purely local affairs and is re- 
sponsible to the ayuntamiento or local governing body of 
the village within whose superior jurisdiction it falls. A 
village includes all the immediately surrounding hamlets, 
and as long as the total population does not exceed 6000 
the ayuntamiento may elect its own mayor or alcalde^ 
who must be one of themselves, and holds his office for 
one year. The alcalde is directly responsible to the pro- 
vincial governor {gobernador provincial)^ who is at the head 
of his province, and the secretary of the ayuntamiento is 
responsible to the provincial commission for local admini- 
stration. Every province in Spain is divided according 
to its size and importance, and for purposes of election, into 
so many districts. Each district is composed of one or two 
sessional divisions, and elects four deputies to serve on the 
provincial deputation which holds its office for four years 
and meets once a month. The provincial commission, to 
which every municipality within the province is responsible, 
is selected from the diputacion provincial by the members 
themselves, who elect one-quarter of their number to serve 
for each year. In this manner every member of the dipu- 
tacion provincial has served on the provincial commission 
before his four years of office has expired. The same divi- 
17 



258 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

sion that elects four provincial deputies elects one member 
of parliament. Very large cities are divided into wards or 
boroughs {barrios\ each of which has its mayor, while for 
the whole town there is a functionary whose office corre- 
sponds to that of our lord mayor. Every appointment to 
the mayoralty, in towns or villages whose population ex- 
ceeds 6000, is made by Madrid from among the members 
of the ayuntamiento. The one exception is Madrid, whose 
Lord Mayor, appointed by the King, need not have been 
an alderman — this being one of the many instances to be 
met in Spain of the royal prerogative. 

The provincial governor, to whom the alcalde himself is 
responsible, holds his appointment from the Cabinet. If 
there is trouble in the province, civil war, uprising against the 
Government or series of anarchist outrages, a state of siege 
may be declared by the supreme authorities in Madrid, and 
the rule of the province passes at once from the hands of 
the civil governor to those of the military governor, who 
suspends all constitutional decrees and guarantees and in- 
stitutes a court martial in place of the civil courts, so that 
insurrection must be very powerful if it is to thrive. Should 
an insurrection spread, it has to encounter not only the force 
of the province in which it starts, but the effective organiza- 
tion of the military district of which that province is a part. 
Spain is divided into fourteen of these military districts, each 
of which is under the direction of a Captain-General whose 
head-quarters are situated in the chief city within his mili- 
tary jurisdiction. 

The division of Spain into provinces was the outcome of 
an attempt by the ruling powers to combat the destructive 
spirit of regionalism and to deliver the reins of power over 
to the hands of Madrid. The attempt failed utterly, for 



SPANISH INTERNAL POLICY 259 

Spain IS no less regional to-day than it was long centuries 
ago, but the failure is more limited than might appear. 
As far as the centralization of Government is concerned, the 
plan has met with complete success. Nothing could be 
more fatal to local aspirations than the power possessed 
and exercised by Madrid of naming the alcalde of every 
municipality that has more than 6000 inhabitants. We 
see that just as soon as power begins to bud it is nipped. 
The ayuntamiento^ the provincial commission and all the 
machinery for electoral purposes are really in the hands of 
the governing class in Madrid ; so it is quite easy to realize 
how election results can be predicated with sufficient cer- 
tainty to enable rival politicians to agree about the divisions 
of the spoils of office. The Cabinet directs the provincial 
governor; the provincial governor influences the councils 
of the provincial deputies ; the deputies bring their influence 
to bear upon the ayuntamientos ; the ayuntamientos control 
the juntas of the little hamlets that are just beginning to 
speak the language of a restricted franchise. Independence 
has little more than a limited existence, but some semblance 
of it is allowed to appear from time to time because it is 
held to serve as a safety-valve. For all practical purposes 
there is no check upon Government by the Madrid minority 
unless it puts forward some extremely unpopular measure 
that proves sufficient to rouse the most lethargic citizens 
to indignation. 

Spain is divided into forty-nine provinces, ranging in size 
from Badajoz with its 22,000 square kilometres down to 
Guipuzcoa which has less than 2000, and in point of 
population from Barcelona which holds wellnigh 1,000,000 
inhabitants to Alava with less than 1 00,000. Save in the 
cases of the Basque Provinces and of Navarre, the capital 



26o HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

gives its name to the province. The country is like a fertile 
farm that is cultivated diligently by hard-working men who, 
when the harvest is gathered, hand it over to somebody 
else. In this case Madrid is the somebody else, and its 
accounts will never be audited. 



CHAPTER XXI 

SIDE-LIGHTS ON POLITICS IN SPAIN 

WE know nothing of what goes on in the heavens 
above, but as far as the earth beneath and a part 
of the waters under the earth are concerned, we may rest 
well assured that there can be nothing so stimulating to 
the sense of humour as Spanish politics — to those who 
look on from the outside. For the poor wretch whose only 
appearance in this comedy is made when he walks on and 
puts his hand in his pocket, the case is altogether different. 
But the most ill-used Spaniard, having something in him of 
the Orient, knows in his heart of hearts that if he had the 
good luck to climb into power, he would follow faithfully 
the example of those whose hand is so heavy upon him. 

I remember meeting once in the Haha Province of 
Morocco a countryman who was driving a donkey loaded 
with salt. In return for my civil salutation he expressed 
the pious wish that I, my parents and my children might 
burn for all time in a place that is not generally men- 
tioned among the polite. Asked why he reviled a stranger 
in this fashion, the worthy salt-seller gave an effective ex- 
planation. 

** I am a poor man," he said, ** to whom Allah has 
denied influence. My Basha takes my little money and 
drives me to work in his fields without payment, or sends 
me to the town for salt. But I can do none of the things 

261 



262 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

I suffer to anybody, for it is written in my book of life that 
I must herd with the weak. If I were strong I would cut 
many throats ; I would carry off money and women and 
corn, but being poor I can do no more than curse." 

And, as though to prove that he made up in fluency 
what he lacked in wealth, the good man continued to curse 
me as long as I was within hearing. 

This spirit of fatalism, universal in Morocco, is hardly 
less marked in Spain. Few Spaniards are perfectly recon- 
ciled to their government, but the most dangerous discontent 
is manifested by those who know that Fortune herself can 
hardly turn her wheel in such a way as to place them 
among the governing classes. There are Spanish cynics 
who declare that our own much-vaunted system of popular 
representation is no better than their own. They point 
out that while the leading political parties in Spain meet 
amicably to divide the spoils of office, the Englishman is 
sent to a constituency by some political federation to whose 
expenses he must contribute liberally, and that he retains 
the coveted title of M.P. just so long as he consents to re- 
spond to the various forms of blackmail practised by his con- 
stituents. I do not put this forward as a true statement of 
our own case, but merely as a picture of British political 
rectitude seen through eyes that though foreign born are 
undeniably shrewd and keen. Unhappily the gods seldom 
give to others the power of seeing us as we see ourselves. 

Spanish politics may be described as a form of business 
conducted on lines that are at once commercial and feudal. 
It takes no count, save in speech, of Spain's political needs ; 
it has no morals and one of its fundamental principles is 
**the devil take the hindmost ". On the platform, in the 
Chamber of Deputies and in the Senate, you may hear fre- 
quent expositions of the best moral principles in the world, 



SIDE-LIGHTS ON POLITICS IN SPAIN 263 

delivered with an eloquence that is not rivalled by the 
publicists of any civilized country. There never was such 
eloquence as Spanish eloquence; it would bring tears 
to the eyes of Sancho Panza's mule. When the Span- 
ish orators speak, you feel that their finger is upon 
the nation's pulse, that, when nobody is looking, they 
shed tears of blood on account of their country's sor- 
rows ; that sleepless nights and strenuous days are 
given wholly to the regeneration of their beloved father- 
land. So much then for their speech, their actions are 
quite another matter. It does not follow that they are 
dishonest men, or that they would not be honest if they 
could, but it is quite beyond doubt that they could not be 
honest if they would. They do not create conditions, they 
merely respond to them. 

The national wealth of Spain may be compared to a 
banquet to which the ruling classes have given themselves 
an invitation. The rulers of the country are no more than 
toastmasters who use their splendid voices to announce 
the subject that claims public attention. The people who 
provide the banquet are divided against themselves and 
hate one another even more than they hate those who sit 
in the high places at the feast. Those who cook the food 
and those who bring it to table, together with those who 
clear the half-empty dishes when they have been removed 
from the banqueting hall, are concerned chiefly, if not 
altogether, with their own chances of being able to put 
something into their mouths or baskets in the intervals of 
protesting that they have no greater desire than to serve those 
whose labours provide the feast, and no higher ambition 
than to give them every satisfaction. So Dives revels all 
day and every day, and the crumbs that fall from his table 
do not go to Lazarus who toils in the fields or starves in 



264 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

the shadow of the city walls, but become the perquisites of 
the flunkeys round the table and the menials in the kitchen. 

Properly to understand the causes which have brought 
this condition about, and threaten even in these progressive 
days to make it enduring, we must turn to the conditions 
of local government in Spain and consider the career of 
the men who carry it on, and to this end must invite the 
cacique, with all the respect due to such an exalted per- 
sonage, to come to the dissecting table and submit to our 
courteous application of the scalpel. 

The cacique, the origin of whose title is Mexican and 
means head of a tribe, corresponds roughly to the American 
" boss," but the cacique's position is not publicly recognized 
by the Government. In most cases he is a very shrewd 
business man, quite unencumbered by education, prejudices 
or scruples ; the leading, most ambitious, and most pros- 
perous citizen of a small town or large village. In a country 
where energy is rare he is extremely energetic ; in a town 
where most people live for pleasure he lives for profit ; 
among folk who are fairly simple he is the most notorious 
vivo, using the curious term in its native sense of low-class 
diplomatist. In the intervals of turning men to profitable 
account, he studies their every weakness ; he knows a man's 
foibles as well as he knows his place of business ; he con- 
ciliates Mother Church at every turn and is one of the chief 
supporters of Black Pope and White. While weaker men 
dream away their lives in the cafes, he is serving them that 
they may serve him, and the rate of interest he secures for 
his labour would make a money-lender envious. 

The cacique is, of course, a large employer of labour, and 
he has a natural instinct for combining men for political ends. 
In the high places of Madrid the politicians look to the 
cacique in town and country to do all their spade work : he 



SIDE-LIGHTS ON POLITICS IN SP.AIN 265 

must prepare the soil, he must plant the seed, he must have 
his share of the harvest, while those alone who have helped 
in his local labours will be permitted to glean the fields over 
which the reaping machines have passed. Mother Church 
herself is among the gleaners. This arrangement, for all 
that it ignores the rank and file and creates a privileged 
class and many small lucrative appointments, works most 
effectively from the practical standpoint of the Spanish 
Government. The cacique may act on lines that the Govern- 
ment indicates but does not care publicly to follow. All 
men who have anything, combine to keep it ; abuses acquire 
a quality of permanence ; sinecures become valuable in fashion 
that secures them from all fear of abolition, and in order 
that no great spirit of reform may arise to offer effective 
opposition to abuses, the political parties in Madrid, Liberal 
and Conservative, unite themselves in a common bond of 
loyalty to the ruling house, though at certain seasons the 
name of Government changes. 

For many years, when Alfonso XIII was a minor, a 
compact known as the Facto del Pardo existed between 
Sefior Sagasta, the Liberal Premier, who to his honour, be 
it said, lived and died a poor man, and Canovas del Castillo, 
together with his successor, Sefior Silvela, the Conservative 
Premiers. A regular rotation of the ruling parties was 
secured by the Pacto del Pardo which was directed against 
Carlists and Republicans. Suddenly a strange thing hap- 
pened. Don Carlos, who then passed most of his time in 
Venice, where his splendid physique and fine boarhound were 
the admiration of the promenaders on the Piazza de San Marco, 
was '*got at" by Mother Church. He promised to retire 
from active competition for the throne of Spain on condition 
that the Liberal Party should undertake to promote no 
measures inimical to the interests of Rome. This arrange- 



266 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

ment was never published to the world, but was communicated 
to the writer by one of Sefior Sagasta's best informed political 
opponents. With it the fear of Carlism disappeared and 
the Government soon found that the fear of Republicanism 
could be disregarded, because the intense spirit of region- 
alism that besets Spain limited the movement to Catalonia 
and a few prosperous commercial centres elsewhere. One 
of the consequences of the changed conditions followed 
closely upon the deaths of Sefior Sagasta and Silvela. The 
Pact was broken up, and to-day the good feeling between the 
Conservatives and Liberals exists no longer, though they are 
still united to support a regime that is bound to provide one 
or the other with cakes and ale in plenty. There is a saying 
in this country that when thieves fall out, honest men come 
by their own, but it will be dangerous for Spain to hope 
for too much from the new conditions. Nor must it be 
supposed that the Republican camp is the shrine of all 
political virtues ; indeed those who are asked to support 
republican propaganda have an uneasy feeling that scorpions 
may be substituted for the whips with which their leading 
politicians scourge them to-day. 

The cacique has profited by the new development in 
politics. A few years ago his influence was directed from 
Madrid ; he was told when the country was about to change 
its political coat and wear the colours of Liberalism instead 
of those of Conservatism, or vice-versa. It was his business 
to obey instructions, and had he disobeyed them a power 
stronger than his own would have promptly put him down. 
Nowadays he has a larger measure of independence and can 
take a larger share of the harvest already referred to. He 
can even impose conditions, though if he be a clever man 
— and where is the cacique who is not ? — he will see to it 
that they are not too onerous. But onerous or light, they 



SIDE-LIGHTS ON POLITICS IN SPAIN 267 

will not require much examination to show a very definite 
local profit to the man who has put them forward. This is 
indeed the golden age of the cacique. 

Even this brief hint at the political conditions prevailing 
in Spain to-day must suffice to show how far the country 
stands removed from political regeneration : every deputy 
(sometimes the cacique himself goes to the Plaza de las 
Cortes) has his local abuses to maintain, every senator is in 
the same plight ; he pays for his promotion with compliance. 
As Gilbert wrote in one of his earlier musical comedies : — 

It is patent to the mob 
That his being made a nob 
Was effected by a job — 
And a good job too. 

Going a little higher in the social scale, it will be seen 
that the Government, by whatever title it may please to call 
itself, is perfectly powerless to do anything more than talk 
eloquently about reforms. It dare not attempt to carry out 
any. The late Sefior Silvela accomplished the most un- 
popular act of his life when some years after the Spanish- 
American War he made a tour of Spain's naval stations 
and removed from the active list and pay sheets of the 
Treasury thousands of sailors, both officers and men, who 
had no ships, and consequently could render no service. 
For years the vessels that lay rotting full fathoms deep 
under the Caribbean Sea were still rated on the effective 
list of Spain, and the poor remains of their crew, from flag- 
captains down to stokers, were drawing full service money 
from an impoverished exchequer. The most un-Spanish 
proceeding of checking a glaring abuse was of course only 
undertaken a few months before it was time for Sefior 
Sagasta to resume the reins of Government, when doubtless 
his supporters waxed eloquent about the troubles that beset 



268 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

Spain's gallant sailors, and attributed them to the corruption 
of an effete Conservative administration. Had there been 
any risk of Carlist or Republican troubles, we may be sure 
that no measure so drastic would have ever passed beyond 
the public platform, if indeed it had succeeded in reaching 
that place of national eloquence. 

While on the one hand these years have been described 
as the golden age of the cacique, it must be admitted that 
it is no longer in his country's power to bestow upon him 
the richest of all rewards known, rather euphemistically, as 
a Foreign Appointment. In days of old when Spain's 
power over Cuba and the Philippines was undisputed, the 
cacique who had deserved well of his country was sent 
ultra mar to the Antilles and instructed to look after him- 
self No questions were asked, save by a few foolish 
Republicans whose role in life it is to trouble a paternal 
Government with embarrassing queries, and if they were 
asked, a few outbursts of official eloquence redolent of the 
highest principles known to mankind, sufficed to silence 
the bore who strove to waste the time of the Cortes and 
hinder the regeneration of the country upon which the 
great heart of legislation is set. The cacique troubled him- 
self not at all. According to his lights he , remunerated 
himself for the sorrow of absence from his beloved country, 
and if he made haste to become rich, it was because he 
knew that the span of life is brief and that other caciques 
were clamouring for his job. If his conscience were 
troubled — and the conscience of a cacique is of the most 
elastic variety known to man — he had but to make a few 
offerings to the local Virgin of his far-off Spanish home, 
thereby assuring to himself the proud title of hijo predilecto^ 
while, if he cared to go to the expense of an altar, there 
would be no question of purgatory for him. Indeed half a 



SIDE-LIGHTS ON POLITICS IN SPAIN 269 

dozen altars would render his whole family immune and 
enable them to enjoy in perpetuity the rich fruit of his — 
let us be charitable and call them— little faults. 

Eheu fugaces ! Times have changed and the American 
hustler sits uncomfortably upon the slippery surface of the 
pearl of the Antilles and works harder for his profits than 
any of the hijos predilectos who preceded him. Nowadays 
the cacique must lower his proud looks when his gaze is 
directed seawards. Did he go to the Philippines to-day he 
would be no more than a tourist in a strange land, and would 
become one of the sun-helmeted guide-book-holding children 
of Cook, who like the first raven sent from the Ark by 
Noah wander over the face of the earth finding no rest 
for the soles of their feet. So the cacique remembers that 
he is a son of Spain and leaves foreign countries to take 
care of themselves and survive the loss of his administrative 
genius as best they can. To do them justice, they are 
making a fairly successful effort. 

But the cacique does not lack rich rewards. His paths 
still drop fatness. When his native town is no longer big 
enough to hold him, he is appointed Governor of a Province, 
and to an energetic, thrifty man of affairs who never lets 
his left hand see what his right hand appropriates, there is 
much balm in Gilead, wherever that delectable place may 
be situate. The provincial governor is responsible only to 
Madrid and to his conscience — this last being, as we have 
seen, a comparatively negligible quantity. He has not 
served a long apprenticeship for nothing. Hitherto he has 
been content to superintend the public weal of one town ; 
now his care is devoted to many. Hitherto he has had 
to conciliate small men ; now he conciliates caciques, mak- 
ing his interests their interests after due consideration and 
amendment, and always bearing in mind that the Govern- 



270 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

ment is the origin of all earthly honour and emolument. 
In this fashion, as can easily be seen, the system that obtains 
in the village obtains in the province, and the caciques have 
absolute discretion over all minor political appointments 
within their considerable but undefined jurisdiction. The 
alcalde and his deputy who are not walking in the right 
path — the right path is the cacique's — can be removed at 
discretion, by which is meant that great discretion is used 
in their removal, the cacique's hand being felt but not seen. 
Below the mayor and deputy mayor there are dozens of minor 
officials earning a small incompetence that enables them to 
live without the intolerable necessity of working hard. It 
is their business to do the cacique's work — the alternative 
being the unthinkable one of working for themselves. So 
the cacique progresses and his influence grows like a snow- 
ball rolled by enthusiastic schoolboys over a snowclad field, 
and when it has reached truly formidable dimensions the 
cacique is ready for translation, — he blossoms. A grateful 
country offers him a title just as in old days his native town 
offered him a banquet. He paid for the one, he has paid 
for the other. If he be a very great cacique indeed, with 
a goodly number of pocket deputies at his command, he 
may even enter the Cabinet ; and in this connexion it may be 
remarked that a prominent member of the Cabinet in Spain 
last year was a cacique. Doubtless His Excellency could 
if he would vouch for the truth of what has been set down 
here. But it would be wrong to approach such an exalted 
statesman, busy, even out of office, as all his predecessors 
have been, with the task of regenerating Spain. Sefior 
Montero Rios, **the old man of Galicia," and sometime 
Premier of the country, was another cacique. 

Sometimes the cacique having inspected his bank balance 
— Spaniards seldom invest their money, they leave the banks 



SIDE-LIGHTS ON POLITICS IN SPAIN 271 

to take charge of it — becomes suddenly aware of the vanity 
of riches and his love for the intellectual life. He realizes 
that though politics have been his care and self-interest, his 
guiding star, he is, " at the ripe red of his heart," an '* artista 
de cuerpa entero," and in order that his light may shine he 
becomes an Academician. This is easy in Spain, almost as 
easy as it is to enter the ranks of the titled, which must not 
be confused with the peerage, an institution that lies beyond 
even the cacique's reach. But if the claims of politics are 
still paramount, if he believe that the regeneration of Spain 
depends upon his efforts and cannot persuade the Cabinet 
that his services are indispensable, he is reduced to founding 
a party of his own, one of the minorias so beloved of the 
Spaniard. His tame deputies rally to the play and, armed 
with sword of eloquence, the cacique storms the heights of 
Government well aware that even if he fall wounded, his 
enemies in the gates will find him a good nursing home. 
If the odds be too hopeless, one little minoria suddenly sees 
that another little minoria is also bent upon Spanish re- 
generation ; the two unite, a third joins them, the babbling 
rivulets become a mighty stream, a powerful cross-current 
in the muddy stream of Spanish politics. The united 
strength of the pocket deputies is reinforced by a subsidized 
newspaper that breathes forth fire and blood and eloquence 
in daily editions. The new party arrives, and Spain's 
highest destinies would be at once accomplished but for the 
fact that the caciques cannot agree upon the division of the 
spoils, and the forces that would have brought about the 
millennium ^* in this regard their current turn awry, and lose 
the name of action ". 

So the wheel of Spanish politics revolves, the despair 
of the strenuous few, the laughing-stock of the multitude 
that sees so much of the humorous side of life, even when 



272 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

that humour is associated with troubles that affect it nearly. 
At long intervals there is some small measure of progress 
to be recorded. A political party, hard pressed for popu- 
larity, reforms some abuse, sacrificing a minority to a 
majority. But such occasions are rare. Nor is it easy for 
the optimist to see any signs of an era of honest govern- 
ment. That Spain has honest men and patriots in plenty 
is recognized even by those whose knowledge of the country 
IS very slight, but one and all must move in a vicious circle, 
they cannot rise above their own time, and they cannot gain 
place without the sacrifice of some measure of principles 
and convictions. The rule of the Church in every sphere 
of life and the divided councils of regionalism are too much 
for Spain, and Spaniards are left to shrug their shoulders, 
light their cigarettes, and be grateful for small mercies. 
Happily for them, their temperament is not altogether un- 
suited to their Government, and it may be that the slow 
spread of education and the development of outside in- 
fluences may lead in the course of years to a settlement 
of the differences that make united action wellnigh im- 
possible to-day. 



CHAPTER XXII 

LITERATURE IN SPAIN 

STUDENTS of the literary history of Spain testify to-day 
to a Renaissance. The multiplication of books in 
other countries, facilities for translation, the interest and 
importance of world news, the greater facilities for obtaining 
it, developments of colour and other printing, an improve- 
ment in the format of books and a reduction of their cost — 
all these things have had a very marked effect upon literature 
in Spain. At the same time the tendency of this art-form, 
as of all others in the country, is singularly simple and 
free from offence. Such demand as exists for what is 
cheap and sensational is supplied through the medium of 
translations from the English and the French. Modern ideas 
have been associated in Spain with traditional sympathies 
and forms, so that Spanish literature is no less regional 
than Spanish music or cooking, and the leading writers of 
the country, with the notable exceptions of Echegaray and 
Galdos, are quite content to interpret the life of their district 
in terms of letters. Naturally enough their books circulate 
throughout the country because the Spaniard is well pleased 
to view the life of regions other than his own through the 
medium of any art-form, if only to reinforce his belief that 
every region save his wallows in ignorance and absurdity. 
This is well, for no Galician author would write of Anda- 
lusia, nor would the Valencian novelist think of setting 
i8 273 



2^4 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

his story in the Sierras of Castile. In the heart of 
every Spaniard there is no Spain ; there is a collection 
of provinces of which one alone deserves to be taken 
seriously. 

For many years of the nineteenth century Madrid was 
the centre of Spain's literary life. It had gone to the 
capital from the precincts of Salamanca and Alcala as these 
great university cities fell slowly from their high estate. 
The centralizing policy of the Government, bringing to the 
capital all the mental activity of the country, enabled the 
wind-swept city of the Guaderrama plateau to maintain its 
pre-eminence until commercial activity woke Barcelona to 
a prosperous life. A literary revival came to the East of 
Spain in the wake of the commercial revival. People grew 
rich, earned leisure, and developed the will to read ; to-day 
the city of Barcelona is a formidable rival to Madrid. 
Indeed, the capital only maintains its position because it is 
the distributing centre for all Spain. The Catalans have 
far more use for books than the Castilians. 

The literary revival in Catalonia is emphatically regional. 
It stands for the keen wish of that part of the country, to 
become a separate republic, or to share the fortunes of the 
great republic across the Pyrenees, and so marked is the 
antipathy to the Castiles that the Catalan authors prefer to 
write in the dialect of their province rather than to use the 
beautiful language of the Madrilefio. Some of them have 
achieved so much distinction beyond their own borders 
that their works have been translated from Catalan into 
the Castilian Spanish and have been printed in Madrid for 
the benefit of all Spain. Among such authors of merit are 
the late poet Guimera, whose "Terra Baixa" has even been 
translated into English, and Santiago Rusifiol, the leading 
light of modern Catalonia. It must be recognized that 



LITERATURE IN SPAIN 275 

Catalan literature stands outside Spanish literature. It is 
something with characteristics of its own, that can only be 
appreciated and understood by those who have the Catalan 
spirit and a knowledge of the Provencal language. For 
the rest of the world it is caviare. The sister province of 
Valencia bears a striking likeness to Catalonia in matters 
of literary interest. The Valencian also speaks the " Langue 
de Provence " ; many circumstances combine to divorce his 
interests from those of the rest of Spain, and there is a 
distinct feeling for books in the province. But Valencia 
is small ; the men who write for her could not hope to find 
a living from the proceeds of works written in the Provencal 
dialect, and consequently they are compelled to fall back 
upon the Castilian Spanish which some of them write very 
beautifully. In spite of her small size Valencia has contri- 
buted not a little to the artistic honour of modern Spain. 
Sorolla the painter, Benlliure the sculptor, and Blanco Ibafiez 
the novelist, are all Valencian, and have carried the repu- 
tation of their province beyond the boundaries of Spain. 
Valencia is noted for its printing work and the fine quality 
of the reproductions that illustrate books, and indeed it may 
be regarded as the third best publishing centre of Spain, 
Madrid and Barcelona taking a first and second place. 
The only other provinces that have a distinct dialect, and 
keep very close to it, are Galicia and the Basque Provinces ; 
of these the latter has no literature, while the former has 
a purely local literature, and only the leaders of its literary 
movement, like Sefiora Dofia Emilia Pardo Bazdn, have 
such a following as makes the use of Castilian Spanish 
inevitable. 

When one considers the prominence of the "Langue 
de Provence'' in Catalonia and Valencia, it becomes 
easy to understand the cry for separation that rises from 



276 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

Eastern Spain and strives in vain to reach the ear of 
Madrid. 

The writer pauses, conscious that his knowledge of de- 
tails of modern Spanish literature is woefully incomplete. 
It would be easy to generalize to the end of the chapter, 
but this would be a little unfair to the reader. So he has 
gone to his friend Charles Rudy, who came so gallantly to 
his aid when problems of pig presented their unsurmount- 
able difficulties in the chapter on cooking, and once again 
Mr. Rudy has come to the rescue and taken the particular 
burden from shoulders ill-equipped to carry it. Let him 
finish this chapter. 

" The regional spirit in art and literature necessarily re- 
flects the local psychology of the inhabitants. Novels are, 
therefore, almost exclusively psychological, but not scienti- 
fically so as are those of the Frenchman Paul Bourget. On 
the contrary, they are character studies within reach of the 
average understanding : the portrayal of a simple character 
under given circumstances. The result is a healthy unam- 
bitious portrait in sober colours quite without the nerve- 
racking sensational plots and counter-plots that are to the 
English reader as breath to life. As often as not the prin- 
cipal character is the protagonist of an idea, either political 
or social. But the book is never Zolaesque in form, for the 
Spaniard is too great a lover of sunshine and of life un- 
adulterated by intellectual problems to have the hero of his 
book modelled after an idea. In other words, the thesis 
must not create the protagonist. The obvious result is that 
the moral influence of the book loses in value, but, on the 
other hand, it is much truer to life. The main thread of 
action is broken at times, it ambles through the pages from 
right to left as did Rozinante through the country that Don 
Quixote invaded. Side scenes like booths at a show break 



LITERATURE IN SPAIN 277 

into the plot, disturbing its unity, even detracting a little 
from its value, but they are painted in bold strokes of the 
pen, they reek of regionalism, and they are so true to 
life — life with a grain of dry humour peculiar to Spain — 
that those whose literary palates have not been hardened by 
highly-seasoned dishes will delight in the simple fare placed 
before them by the Spanish novelist. 

" Taking the above as the general analysis of the Iberian 
novel of to-day, we can see at a glance that the political and 
social problems of the hour are treated in a much more 
popular way than would be the case were they spread out 
on a scientific dissecting table. They are more genial, and the 
puppets of the author's creation are free in their movements. 
They come and go at will, they say sensible things — or 
foolish things which they believe are sensible — and they are 
subservient to no thesis. Should the author be a social or 
political reformer, he will clearly have his say in the words 
of his hero or heroine, and the stronger his political and 
social ideas, the stronger will be the reflection in the mouth 
of the protagonist. But the general plan of the book will 
not, as a rule, be marred by this circumstance, for the 
Spaniard has yet to learn that German art has invented a 
leitmotif, that it is the fashion to bring this out in strong 
relief at the expense of all true-to-life portraiture, and that 
the ideal work of art would be one where there would only 
be a leitmotif and not a superfluous word, not a word that 
might remind us that in life there is no leitmotif, only a 
lot of trifling little motives, apparently without cause or 
efl'ect, without either a sensational birth or a protracted 
death. 

" From the foregoing it can easily be seen that, as a 
general rule, there are no striking Spanish novels founded 
on a central theme. Sefiores Blasco Ibanez and Pio Baroja 



278 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

have penned, it is true, what might be called revolutionary 
novels, the former in his * La Catedral,' the latter in * La 
Lucha \ But even in these works the ambiente or setting of 
the work follows the general rules of Spanish fiction as indi- 
cated above. When, on the other hand, we come to analyse 
the works of Jose Maria Pereda — this master died a few years 
ago — of Emilia Pardo Bazdn, of Jacinto Octavio Pic6n, 
Arturo Reyes, Palacio Valdes, and others of equal calibre, 
we find that the social or political thesis is relegated to a 
distant and indistinct background. It is there, neverthe- 
less, but it teaches its lesson without effort, naturally, per- 
haps bitterly and sarcastically, but with a quaint humour 
that is Spain's above most nations. This has perhaps its 
explanation in the spirit of Oriental fatalism as pronounced 
in Spain to-day as it was when the Moors possessed 
Andalusia. 

" But if the traditions of the Cid have not been locked 
up in the tombs of the past (as the Spaniards are in the habit 
of saying), and the model given to posterity by Cervantes is 
still all-powerful in the land of Don Quixote and Sancho 
Panza, it must not be denied that a new spirit is penetrating 
into the most eastern part of Western Europe. French 
adultery has not been able to play the same role in the litera- 
ture of Spain as in that of Paris, but the tendency certainly 
is to give morals a looser bridle than heretofore. As an ex- 
ample of this, for Spain's exotic movement, it is only neces- 
sary to refer to Sefior Trigo and the school he has been able 
to form. He and his remind us of the works of Willy and 
Prevost beside whom Mrs. Gwynn pales her ineffectual fires. 
As for the sensational, characterized by our modern Anglo- 
Saxon literature where detectives and criminals are the 
heroes of society, and the revolver goes off at short intervals, 
it has not been able as yet to convince the good hidalgo. 



LITERATURE IN SPAIN 279 

But even here Spanish literature is becoming modernized, 
and the movement of Engh'sh imitation hails from Barce- 
lona. This city's geographical position would seem to in- 
dicate it as the point where French influence should pene- 
trate the most readily into the Iberian Peninsula ; and it is 
so, but at the same time the modern industrial and intel- 
lectual development of the capital of Catalonia has marked 
it out as the centre of all new movements, be they Anglo- 
Saxon or French. And strange to say, it is in the serial 
stories of newspapers, magazines, etc., that the sensational 
element predominates — -and I say strange, because these 
serials are destined for the masses, and it is here that the 
taste for the truly Spanish genius as described above ought 
to be the strongest. Evidently it is not so, and the masses 
find more entertainment in reading an impossible detective 
story than in perusing the humour of a classical Spanish 
novel. Times are changing, and foreign influences will 
sooner or later model Spanish literature on a European 
and not Iberian pattern. 

" If, and in consequence of traditions, the modern Spanish 
novel has nothing of truly Spanish origin to recommend it 
to those who delight in fiction as a nerve tonic and not as 
a simple work of art, practically the same will have to be 
said of the Spanish short story, and yet it is in these that 
the Spaniards excel. They have nothing to learn from 
either Poe or Maupassant ; in newspapers, magazines, and 
in books they possess the most varied collection of short 
stories to be found in any literature. Yet here again the 
national Iberian characteristic of excessive reality is pre- 
dominant. And I say reality and not realism designedly, 
for the former is true to life, contains its romance and its 
pathos, its humour and sentimentality, its ideal hopes and 
base ambitions, whereas the latter restricts its endeavours 



28o HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

to the portrayal of the gross, the common and, as often as 
not, the filthy. Thus in the Spanish short story we have 
trozos de vida — snatches of life — that are gems of quiet 
unpresuming reality, that say nothing, preach nothing, and 
have no more aim than that of interesting the average 
reader a moment with the account of some homely scene 
in one of the many localities that go to make up the 
Spanish kingdom. It is by reading these short stories by 
a Clarin — unhappily dead already — an Azorin or some such 
master of Castilian prose that we learn to understand 
the leading characteristics of the Spanish people and their 
mode of living. 

*^ But modern Spanish novels and short stories have their 
faults as well as their virtues. They are due more to the 
topic chosen than to the artist's temperament perhaps, or 
— and this is the more likely case — they are produced by 
the social lethargy so pronounced in Spain to-day. In 
other words, the artist portrays a somnolent, inactive, 
sleepy, almost degenerate, fatalistic state of society, and 
consequently the work created lacks action and energy, is 
despondent, even pessimistic, mystic without being pathetic, 
melodramatic without being romantic. Exceptions are Perez 
Galdos, author of * Episodios Nacionales,' and Echegaray 
whose ' Gran Galeote ' was recently staged in England. 
But the above-named faults will doubtless be eradicated 
shortly from Spanish literature, thanks to the country's 
rather Pyrrhic victory over the Moors. The Rifif triumphs 
will serve to wake up Spain from the lethargy into which 
she fell after the Spanish-American War, and when the 
people have awakened to a new national life, the men who 
portray them will find new qualities to describe. For the 
Spaniard in all his art manifestations is a profound portrait 
painter for whom psychological happenings and their set- 



LITERATURE IN SPAIN 281 

ting form a picture or series of pictures to be set down al 
vivo on paper or canvas. Velasquez, Murillo, Cervantes, 
Quevedo — they were all portrait painters, each after his 
own fashion. 

" Since the death of the masters of romanticism — Becquer, 
Zorilla, Campoamor, and Balaguer — poetry has flourished 
much like a plant grown in a dark cellar. Luis de Arce, 
in his ^ Sursum Corda,' invites his countrymen to awaken to 
a new life, but even in so doing he is himself as inert and 
somnolent as the people he advises. The result is cold, 
unfeeling, academical work ; and really Arce was through 
his life an academician without the strength of a Gongora 
to create a new path for himself, however bad it might be. 

" Two living poets need mentioning, one because he is 
typically Spanish, the other because of his prolific pen. 
The latter is Salvador Rueda, much appreciated for the 
ease and beauty of his language, the other is the less- 
known, but far deeper poet, Vicente Vera, the Burns of 
Murcia, his native province, and one whose lyre trembles 
with the innermost feelings of the common people, their 
joys and sufferings. 

" I forgot to mention, when speaking of Pereda the nove- 
list, that other novelist, also dead, and in life not a lesser 
light, the diplomat Juan Valera. His ^ Pepita Jimenez' is 
one of those rare books that have been translated into 
almost all languages and that will live. As stylist Valera 
was what the Spaniards call castizo or classic ; he led the 
van of those writers wishing to abandon the romantic for 
the real. 

^* Having thus summarily disposed of the leading writers 
— those whose names have been omitted are also leading 
writers, but in a work of this scope they must perforce 
excuse silence — we will turn to those other wielders of the 



282 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

pen, namely, the journalists. Some of these are great 
writers, others great politicians, most of them admirable 
men. Names like Joaquin Dicenta, Luis Morote, and 
Mariano de Cavia will live in Spanish literature — the first 
on account of his sketches and dramas, the second for the 
admirable precision of his political studies, which will be 
taken as a model for future journalists, just as Macaulay was 
taken as a model for us in our youth, and the third for his 
incomparable crSnicas in the * Imparcial \ These little 
daily sketches of a column or a half in length, of the most 
biting sarcasm, humour, and worldly wisdom, are, as far as 
I am aware, unique, not to be compared with the work of 
any other Spaniard since the days of Quevedo, master of 
irony. 

" As regards the economic side of the literary question in 
Spain, it can be said to be worse — at least no better — than 
in any other civilized country. For Spanish conditions the 
leading writers are enabled to make more than an average 
living out of their pen, though when compared with the 
fortunes amassed by some of our authors these sums 
appear insignificant. But apart from the chosen few who 
have understood how to form a strong trust with a view to 
protect their own interests-— the law of self-preservation — 
and to hinder young authors from becoming popular, there 
are the many who are not chosen, and for these writing is 
no longer an art but a tiresome, unremunerative drudgery 
which only ambition can nourish or enliven. That there 
are prospects of a Renaissance in this direction has been 
stated so often, that unconsciously we are reminded of the 
fable of the man and the wolf, and when at last it does 
come, few people, even Spaniards, will be willing to believe 
in its arrival. Of the trusts mentioned above, the most 
powerful, because the least conscientious, is the Sociedad de 



LITERATURE IN SPAIN 283 

Autores, whose control of the Spanish stage is unquestioned. 
Most authors are members of this society whose directors 
are the most distinguished among them, and it is these 
directors, veritable literary caciques or * bosses,' who con- 
trol the market in their own interests and against those of 
the remaining members whose membership is a sinecure 
and whose rights are limited to the payment of an annual 
subscription. 

" But if the thorns in the path of the younger generation 
of Spanish authors are more numerous than the roses, both 
as regards advancement and retribution, it must not be 
forgotten that these young men will, when they get the 
chance a few years hence, act in like fashion towards the 
future generation. In the long run then, the evil state 
of affairs in Spain needs no improvement. The greater 
number of papers, periodicals, magazines, and reviews, as 
well as the Renaissance of learning that is slowly raising its 
head in the Iberian Peninsula, will certainly give more work 
to the ambitious author, but it must be remembered that 
the number of ambitious young authors increases likewise, 
so that the proportion is little varied. The common herds 
have not learnt yet to look upon literature as a necessity of 
life — in this they resemble the common herds throughout 
Christendom, only that, in comparison with the intelectuales , 
they are more numerous in Spain than elsewhere — and the 
result is that the Spanish author's public is limited. Were 
education to figure on the programme of politicians and 
not only on the lips of would-be reformers, the benefits to 
be gleaned by authors would be enormous ; but perhaps it 
is just as well for the uneducated to remain uneducated, for 
thanks to illiteracy, caciquismo can flourish under Sefior 
Maura or his temporary successor's dictatorship, and the 
Church profit thereby. Far be it from anybody to wish to 



284 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

mar the harmony or disturb the Church-State peace of 
Spain in order to benefit the fine arts. 

" Of the institutions that have done the most — all in their 
power — to further the taste for literature and the arts in 
modern Spain, must be reckoned the Ateneos, of which 
the Madrid Ateneo is certainly a model. Lectures, prizes, 
and musical evenings are among the attractions which these 
literary clubs can offer; they possess, moreover, useful 
libraries containing all modern Spanish books, most French 
and very few English ones. The newspaper rooms are 
quite cosmopolitan ; politics are debarred from the pro- 
gramme, but politics are the leading theme discussed. Ad- 
vanced ideas, either Spanish or foreign, find their first home 
in the Ateneos, and more than once, in hours of national 
tyranny, have the doors been closed by a careful Govern- 
ment. But, everything said, the usefulness of the Ateneos 
cannot be denied by any but the most narrow-minded Jesuits, 
and certain it is that the present artistic lethargy would be 
far deeper than it is were it not for the Madrid Ateneo, 
branches of which have been founded in Barcelona, Seville, 
and elsewhere. 

" Second to these Ateneos are the various Circulos de 
Bellas Artes, of which mention has been made elsewhere. 
They exist in most localities of any importance, and are the 
leading factors in keeping alive the spirit of regionalism. 
They foster the fine arts — local fine arts — and do their ut- 
most to save from oblivion the fast-expiring remnants of 
folk-lore, whether musical, lyrical, or graphic. 

" Opposed to these, and as useless as they are useful, is 
that exotic institution called the Academia Real Espaftola. 
Its existence is a negation, its arrogance abusive, and its 
practical value an illusion. Yet it serves its purpose, namely, 
to remind ambitious authors that they can never aspire to 



LITERATURE IN SPAIN 285 

a seat among the immortals unless they exchange their 
pen for a private secretary's post in some Ministry where 
they can bow down and worship not Apollo but Zeus. 
Apart from this, the least said about the Academy the 
better." 



CHAPTER XXIII 

SPANISH LAW COURTS AND THEIR 
JURISDICTION 

THE basis of Spain's legal administration is undoubtedly 
XhQjuzgado municipal, whose chief (Juez municipal) 
may be said to correspond to our justice of the peace. 
Down to a few years ago the alcalde was placed upon the 
Commission of the Peace upon election to the mayoralty, 
but Spain's more recent policy has been to reduce the 
influence of the alcalde, and to this end the functions have 
been divided. In this connexion it is interesting to re- 
member that the alcalde is merely the cadi of Moslem 
lands, where, in accordance with Islamic conventions, the 
civil and judicial functions are united in one administrator. 
Under the new dispensation in Spain ^Q,juez municipal or 
justice of the peace, if the term be admissible, is one of a 
company that numbers nearly ten thousand. Each holds 
his appointment from the president of one or other of the 
fifteen audiencias territoriales into which Spain is divided 
for the better administration of the law. An audiencia 
territorial corresponds in many ways with our circuit. 
From three to five judges, who hold their appointment 
from Madrid, are in charge of these courts, and to the 
member who is appointed president is granted the privilege 
and responsibility of placing eligible citizens within the 
limits of his audiencia upon the Commission of the Peace. 
Above the little local courts are some five hundred courts 

286 



LAW COURTS AND THEIR JURISDICTION 287 

of session, of which one or two, according to the population, 
form an electoral district. The judges are appointed from 
Madrid, nominally by the king, but in reality by the 
Minister of Justice acting on the advice of political organ- 
izers, and they hold their office for life, the only change 
in their condition taking the pleasant form of promotion. 
Above these courts of first instance come the audiencias 
territoriales, to which reference has already been made, and 
from these we reach the highest legal assembly in the 
country, the Tribunal Supremo, from which there is no 
appeal. 

To the audiencias territoriales, audiencias criminates or 
criminal courts are attached, and to fifteen of the former 
there are no fewer than eighty of the latter— a proportion 
suggesting in most emphatic fashion that civil procedure is 
of comparatively small importance in Spain. The country 
holds sixteen State prisons for men, besides one for women, 
and two model prisons {carcel modeld) at Madrid, one for 
each sex. Very serious offences that do not involve the 
death penalty are punished with a sentence of chains or 
perpetual imprisonment {cadenas perpetuas or condena\ and 
criminals are sent to the country's penal settlements which 
are on the North African coast, and include the Zaffarin 
Islands, Ceuta and Melilla. These presidios, as they are 
called, are under the control of a military governor who is 
responsible only to Madrid. 

The condition of these prisons on the Spanish territory 
in Morocco is very 1 far from satisfactory. The administra^ 
tion is very lax, official salaries are poorly paid, and men 
are constantly "escaping" from the mainland presidios 
when they reach Tetuan or Tangier, and being representa- 
tives of the lowest criminal class, they make their presence 
felt. It happens all too frequently that some outrage for 



288 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

which the Moors are held responsible, can be traced by 
those who are well informed to Spanish refugees from the 
presidios. 

The writer had occasion to visit one of Spain's penal 
settlements a few years ago in the interests of a great daily 
paper, and finding an old soldier in charge of a little casa 
de huespedesy asked him to explain why there were so many 
cases of prison-breaking. It was impossible to leave the 
presidio by the port, for nobody was allowed to land with- 
out a signed order brought from the comandante of a big 
town on the Spanish mainland, and nobody was allowed 
to embark without a similar permit from the governor of 
the presidio. The old soldier explained that the matter 
was quite simple. All official salaries were small and some 
were in arrears. To make up their deficits, the prison 
authorities were in the habit of releasing men who gave no 
trouble and could pay a little bit for their liberty by the aid 
of friends at home. I suggested that the risks were pos- 
sibly greater than the profits, and was then advised that the 
latter were not so small as they might appear. For in 
every case of a release the name of the prisoner remained 
on the book, and the Spanish Government continued to 
make allowance for his rations ! 

In Spain all judicial offices carry a salary even though it 
be but a small one. The gentleman who corresponds to 
our justice of the peace draws pay and pension, though 
each is insignificant. The judges of the five hundred higher 
courts receive something in the neighbourhood of two hun- 
dred pounds a year, a sum upon which a man may live in 
comfort in Spain. The President of the Supreme Tribunal, 
the highest paid official on the Spanish bench, receives 
about twelve hundred a year, less than a quarter of the 
salary paid to any English judge of the High Court. 



LAW COURTS AND THEIR JURISDICTION 289 

Owing to the poor pay and to the curious overiapping of 
electoral and judicial functions, there is rather more law 
than justice. Spanish jurists declare that the Spanish codes, 
both civil and criminal, are among the best in the world, 
but so intricate that a really skilled lawyer can twist and 
turn them in any direction, while the judge is so bound by 
precedent that he has no initiative left, and must do many 
things that are quite repugnant both to equity and to 
common sense. 

In Spain a justice of the peace wears a small silver 
medallion attached to a black cord hung around the neck 
and reaching to the breast. Higher judges wear a passable 
imitation of the old Roman toga and a medal over that. In 
addition to this they display a large silver badge attached to 
a broad ribbon going from the shoulder to the waist, like the 
ribbon of some of our higher orders at home. The President 
of the Supreme Tribunal wears a small chain of office on 
ordinary occasions and a large one on high-days and holi- 
days. Neither judge nor barrister disfigures his head with 
horse-hair after the fashion of this country, but their many- 
sided hats are very picturesque and becoming. 

The study and the practice of the law are very popular 
in Spain, and a large proportion of the students to be met 
in the ten university towns of Spain are devoting their time 
— in theory at least — to the study of law. With the general 
public the law is not so popular, and the terms in which 
lawyers are referred to are seldom those of endearment. 
Take our own law's delay, multiply it by three, decorate it 
with countless papers, each bearing a Government stamp 
that the litigant must pay for, reduce the chances of an 
equitable decision by a half, and you will arrive at a 
formula that will express the nature of a Spanish law-suit. 
The initial popularity of the law among those who practise 
19 



290 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

it is undoubtedly due in Spain to the ease with which the 
examinations for a degree may be passed. The legal degree 
is easier than any other, and as some university degree is 
necessary before a man can receive any one of the higher 
Government appointments that are competitive, the most of 
those who enter for one of the oposiciones arm themselves 
with a degree of Doctor of Laws. In Spain stewards, 
land agents, surveyors, architects, managing directors of 
companies, financiers, even bull-fighters, are to be found 
among those who hold the title of doctor en derecho, 
Spanish lawyers are as fortunate in the matter of official 
holidays as the rest of their brethren in other countries. 
The long vacation begins in the middle of July and comes 
to an end in mid-September, when the Minister of Justice 
and Grace — this latter term referring to his ecclesiastical 
office — delivers an eloquent speech in which he tells the 
story of what he is pleased to regard as legal progress in 
conjunction with the national regeneration to which he of 
course devotes his entire life. About the same time the 
Minister of Education, reopening the session in Madrid 
University, holds forth in similar strain, and the speeches of 
these regenerators make excellent reading, until custom 
has staled their infinite variety. 

In the Congreso or House of Deputies, nearly every 
other member seems to be a lawyer. Even if he does not 
practise he will be found to hold the legal degree. So 
many men regard the doctor en derecho as a stepping-stone 
to higher things, and such indeed it proves to the most of 
them. Some of Spain's most distinguished Ministers have 
been practising barristers, the ex-premier, Seftor Maura, 
sometime cacique of a Mallorcan village, and one of the 
most remarkable in Spain to-day, had a splendid practice at 
the bar when he was summoned to the ministry. On re- 



LAW COURTS AND THEIR JURISDICTION 291 

ceiving his appointment, under the terms of which he could 
no longer practise in the court, Sefior Maura advised his 
clients to transfer their allegiance to his great political op- 
ponent, the Republican deputy, Sefior Salmeron, who died 
recently. After Sefior Maura, Salmeron was perhaps the 
most eloquent advocate in the country, while as far as legal 
knowledge was concerned he was indisputably the greatest 
lawyer in Spain. But in spite of his gifts, it was a little 
curious to see the leader of the Republican party, an ex-pre- 
sident of the forgotten Spanish Republic, and the implacable 
political opponent of Sefior Maura, entrusted with briefs in- 
tended for the latter. 

There is an Academy of Jurisprudence which delivers 
lectures, awards prizes, and is in theory an altogether honour- 
able assembly to which only the law students may aspire. 
In practice, however, the straight and narrow way is neither 
straight nor narrow, and if a man with influence or im- 
pudence, or the two in happy combination, wishes to be- 
come a member of this or any other Spanish academy, 
there is really nothing in the way of an effective obstacle 
to his progress. Certain honours are so easily obtainable 
in Spain that the term honour threatens to become a mis- 
nomer. 

Not unnaturally every manner of charge is hurled against 
the Spanish bench ; every disappointed litigant tells stories 
of abominable corruption ; every disappointed politician 
accuses Ministers of using the legal training that so many 
of them possess for the purpose of evading the spirit of the 
law, but fair play compels impartial observers to bring in a 
verdict of " Not Proven ". That law and justice are not 
synonymous terms in the lower courts, where the cacique is 
not without his influence upon the judge of the audiencia^ 
nobody will attempt to deny. That legal decisions are 



292 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

sometimes known to be affected by political suggestions is 
also indisputable, but that justice is corrupt is a conclusion 
it would be very hard to justify. It is slow, tedious, ex- 
pensive, and unsatisfactory, but Spain is not the only country 
to which the same adjectives are applicable. 

There is a little Spanish proverb that bids those who 
lack bread eat cakes, and it is often used by way of consola- 
tion to those who suffer from the law's expense or delay. 
Perhaps it may be repeated here, for when all is said and 
done every country has the legal system it deserves, and if 
people would only realize the absurdity of an appeal to the 
courts, the machinery of jurisdiction would have no choice 
between simplification and disuse. 




u 



CHAPTER XXIV 

ARMS AND THE MAN 

THE Spanish army and the Spanish soldier must claim 
attention in any study of home life in Spain, for the 
established order of political conditions owes much to both 
— they stand between the Castiles and social upheaval. 
Not only is the loyalty of the army an asset upon which 
the Ruling House must depend for its continued existence, 
but there has always been a party or section of a party in 
high places that fears a really successful general almost as 
much as it fears the social revolution. General Valeriano 
Weyler, the strongest and most resolute soldier in his 
country's service, the Kitchener of Spain, was for some 
years credited with the power, if he but had the will, to 
proclaim a military dictatorship. The Government relies 
upon the army but fears it as well, and consequently when 
Spain goes to war, the army, no matter who the nominal 
commander may be, is directed from Madrid, to the great 
confusion of the campaign. If the full history of the 
Spanish-American War is ever written, the force of these 
statements will be understood. The country has many 
men who combine the sardonic humour that is truly Spanish 
with the fatalism which has been imported from across the 
Mediterranean, and the outspoken comments that pass 
unchallenged upon the origin and conduct of recent cam- 
paigns afford perhaps the most damning expose of the 

293 



294 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

Government system that could well be imagined. The re- 
cent struggle in the Rifif country was associated with printed 
comment that no paper in England would publish. 

Of the Spanish soldier it is difficult for a civilian to speak 
justly. In times of peace you notice a rather insignificant 
soldier, generally one of an undersized, unhealthy, and un- 
attractive class of man that is the reverse of inspiring. 
But if you ask any unprejudiced observer who has seen the 
Spanish soldiers in the field, you will hear them very highly 
praised for bravery, endurance, good spirits, and other fine 
qualities. It would seem then that " the piping times of 
peace " are bad for the Spanish soldier, his life is more or 
less dissipated, his discipline is lax, his requirements are 
badly looked after, and his contempt for civilians is an 
emotion he is at no pains to conceal. But in the field, as 
the great Napoleon learned to his cost, many Spanish 
soldiers are heroes, and for the veteran broken in the wars 
there can be no sentiments save of respect and compassion. 
For his Fatherland has little use for war's wastage, and 
hundreds of brave fellows who have served their country 
have returned to it broken in health and strength to find 
themselves no better off than the beggars on the highway. 
There is little reward for the rank and file in Spain, whether 
they serve in the stricken field or labour at the plough, 
theirs at best is ^* a broken day of sunshine and of showers, 
fading to twilight and deep night at last ". 

The Spaniard makes a good fighting man. He is brave. 
Under fire he is apt to lose his temper, and gain a fury that 
inspires him to acts of heroism. His enemies cannot boast 
that they have seen his back. Here again we have the in- 
stinctive spirit of individuality of the Spaniard^ and the 
history of Spanish wars, whether civil, local, or national, are 
a record of the doings of individuals rather than masses. 



ARMS AND THE MAN 295 

In guerrilla warfare the Spaniard is, when ably led, a re- 
doubtable opponent, hot-headed, and even ruthless to the 
verge of cruelty. The Carlist struggles in the North and 
the fighting in the Cuban swamps can supply all necessary 
confirmation here. A check maddens the Spanish soldier ; 
if left to himself he would as a rule know no defeat. But 
moral encouragement is necessary for the Spaniard, and in 
default of this tonic he is easily depressed. 

The organization of the army is notjperfect ; it is doubtless 
perfect in no land. Yet all things considered, the army is 
perhaps the best organized of all Spain's Government 
departments. This in itself is not saying very much, con- 
sidering that Spanish political rule is a synonym for mal- 
administration, but the organization of the small army 
that the King calls his own has at least the rudiments of 
thoroughness. Down to within a few years ago the 
relations between the military and political castes were 
both close and pronounced ; the army and its whole ad- 
ministration were directly dependent on the Ministry of 
War which was, and still is, an assembly of politicians who 
have no practical acquaintance with service in the field. 
Not only was this bad for the army in times of peace, it 
was worse in times of war, and the result of a dual control 
was that the war was generally disastrously led — and hope- 
lessly lost. The commanding generals could take no step 
without first consulting the political authorities at home. 
The Cuban War was lost in this way, the subsequent debacle 
was due to it. Now the tendency is to remove the army 
almost completely from the influence of political incompe- 
tents, and with this object in view, a Superior Central Staff 
has been created under the direct supervision of the King. 
The Ministry of War has nothing to do with this Etat 
Majeur^ although the Minister for War is a member. It is 



296 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

hoped by the new arrangements to avoid recurrence in 
future to political pronunciamientos under military control, 
and also to enable generals in time of war to carry out 
their own plans of action without having to be dependent 
upon the wishes of a number of unthinking, ignorant civilian 
officials housed in the War Office. 

The life led by the Spanish soldier in times of peace is 
simple and rustic when compared with that led by those 
of other nations. Hygienic precautions have practically 
no place in the barracks, they are as scarce as provisions 
for the reasonable comfort of the men who serve. But 
then, and this must not be forgotten, the Spaniard is not 
degenerate or highly civilized, enough as yet to require 
all the comforts that are regarded as necessaries with us. 
If an Iberian boor were transplanted to a northern barracks, 
say in France or Germany, he would certainly feel ill at 
ease, he would think he had found luxuries. So we must 
not be surprised to find that the Spanish soldier is not only 
reconciled to, but really likes both the general consideration 
and the fare that, with all due regard to economy, the 
Spanish authorities mete out to him. Nor is it surprising 
that after the quinto (recruit) has done five years' service in 
the army he should not be averse from joining the Guardia 
Civil or gendarmes, and serve another ten or twenty years 
in their ranks. His privileges, perquisites, and authority 
will all suffer change for the better. 

The Guardia Civil is as stalwart and ruthless a body of 
organized men as is to be found between the north and 
south poles. Its creation was a stroke of statecraft, its 
management is an enduring tribute to the responsible parties. 
The members of this splendidly trained body are not police- 
men, they are not under the control of a provincial civil 
governor, but are under the military authorities. Their duty 



ARMS AND THE MAN 297 

is to preserve order, and they fulfil their duty ruthlessly. 
Well mounted, carrying excellent carbines which they know- 
how to use with the quickness and precision of a Western 
American, they are the sworn enemies of every disturber of 
the public peace, and are hated by all who consider that 
the Government then in power is playing with the rights of 
men and women. And as all Governments Spain has had 
within the past thirty years are bent upon so dealing with 
the governed, it stands to reason that the guardias are 
cordially hated by the forces which are rightfully or wrong- 
fully opposed to constituted authority. 

The corps is numerous, and the authorities are not re- 
nowned for moral or physical bravery in time of crisis. 
The result is that the guardias are to be seen everywhere 
with their black, white, and yellow uniform and three-cornered 
hats ; their resolute action and their ready weapons are easily 
provoked. No train moves without the pareja (the term 
applies to a couple of gendarmes, they are never to be seen 
alone) in attendance. There is no procession without its 
escort of guardias^ no crowd can ever assemble without 
/being intimidated by a host of these fierce expressions of a 
Government's fear of revolution. No bull-fight, no cock- 
fight, no merienda^ no feria lacks its contingency oi guardias. 
Spain is, to no small extent, ruled by them ; without them 
dictators like ex-Premier Maura might well shiver in their 
shoes and yet be brave men. Physically and personally 
they are a fine set of fellows — stalwart, sturdy, and brave. 
As a body they reflect small credit upon any country that 
boasts of a constitution, and whose King claims to be the 
** first citizen, soldier, and farmer in the realm ". 

The organization of the Guardia Civil as well as that of 
the whole army is naturally centralized in Madrid, and this 
concentration is perhaps the most powerful weapon with 



298 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

which the Government endeavours to combat the region- 
alism so strong in the Iberian Peninsula. If better results 
have not been obtained— and no small measure of success 
has been achieved — it is due to the fact that the members 
of the army and the Guardia Civil remain regionalists 
to the end of their days in spite of all endeavours 
made by the authorities to eradicate the local sentiment. 
No body of Gallegos, Murcians, Sevillians, and Catalans 
can possibly be united by a uniform and a set of disciplinary 
regulations. Until a few years ago different recruiting laws 
existed in various provinces ; these laws were remnants of 
the prov'mcisil /ueros to conserve which the Spaniards fought 
for the greater part of the past century. The Carlist wars 
were, in fact, the struggle of the Basque Provinces, Navarre, 
Aragon, and Catalonia for the regional privileges that Don 
Carlos had sworn to preserve ; the failure of the Pretender 
to assert his rights to the throne was characterized by the 
centralization of power in Castile and the unification of 
Spanish laws. It was the punishment of defeat. To-day, 
save in the Basque Provinces, the recruiting and other laws 
are uniform throughout Spain ; while as far as military law in 
the Basque Provinces is concerned, it provides for the re- 
cruiting of soldiery as in all other provinces, but the recruits 
are not obliged to do their military service outside their own 
province. This significant State tribute to regionalism has 
been found indispensable. 

The King has as bodyguard the Real Cuerpo de Guardias 
Alabarderos and a squadron of the Escolta Real. The 
uniform of the bodyguard on gala occasions is of a creamy 
white, and in winter the officers wear white capas. 

Spain is divided into sixty-eight military zones and three 
naval zones, the latter being situate at Cadiz, Ferrol, and 
Cartagena. Since the American War the Spanish navy 



ARMS AND THE MAN 299 

has been unimportant, but the country's reappearance in 
international politics since the marriage of King Alfonso, 
has induced the Government to open an important credit 
for the construction of a fleet to include one or two Dread- 
noughts. British firms, in conjunction with Spanish ones, 
are constructing the new navy in the yards of Ferrol and 
Cartagena. 

Like so many other Spanish laws, universal conscription 
exists in name only. As a matter of fact, it is only the 
poorer classes that have to serve, either three or two years 
in the active and as many again in the reserve. For the 
rich, should their sons draw a number which obliges them 
to serve, a substitute can be bought for £60^ but this money 
does not go to the substitute but into the hands of the 
Government. The injustice of this procedure is only too 
apparent, but, although each new Minister of War upon 
whom depends the regeneration of the country's military 
organization has a brilliant scheme for the introduction 
of universal conscription, these schemes all come to an 
untimely end. 

The Spanish army consists nominally, and on a peace 
footing, of 100,000 men (1907), and to this number must be 
added no less than 11,756 ojfficers. The Guardia Civil, 
though standing as far as organization and discipline are con- 
cerned, under the Ministry of War, is placed really at the 
disposal of the Home Secretary. It consists of 20,000 men, 
and another 15,000 men are represented by the carbineers. 
But these figures are not accurate, they are written down 
on paper in the different Government offices. In reality, 
the number of soldiers falls below the figures given. When 
harvesting season comes round, for instance, it is doubtful 
whether many more than half the prescribed number of 
soldiers are serving under the flag. 



300 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

Spain is divided into eight Captain-Generalships, each 
standing for an army corps of two divisions. The seventh 
and eighth army corps consist each only of one division, so 
that there are in all only fourteen divisions, to which one 
cavalry division stationed in Madrid must be added. At 
the head of each army corps there is a " Captain-General," 
corresponding to our Lieutenant-General. 

The budgetary strength of a division is 6000 men, v/hich 
can be increased to 16,000 in time of war. We thus obtain 
rather less than 90,000 men in time of peace, and on paper 
the numbers can be raised to 240,000 in time of war. The 
figures are of course more imposing than reliable. 

A division consists of two infantry brigades, a cavalry 
regiment, two artillery regiments, and a regiment of pon- 
toons, etc. 

The infantry brigade contains two regiments to each two 
battalions ; the cavalry regiment has four squadrons ; the 
artillery regiment two divisions of three batteries each, each 
battery consisting of four guns. There are in all Spain 
552 pieces of artillery (1908). A quick-firing division is 
being introduced, divided into two sections, each of which 
carry two Maxim or two Hotchkiss guns. 

To the above must be added three brigades of Chasseurs, 
each brigade consisting of six battalions. 

In time of peace there are 134 battalions, 58 " cuadros,'' 
112 squadrons, 84 artillery batteries, and 52 technical com- 
panies. In time of war these figures are raised to 308 bat- 
talions, 168 squadrons, 84 batteries, and 70 technical 
companies. These figures are exclusive of the soldiery 
stationed on the Balearic and Canary Isles. 

As far as Africa is concerned, the recent war and the new 
territory acquired by Spain will seemingly induce the 
Government to introduce reforms in their African fortresses. 



ARMS AND THE MAN 301 

Thus we read that the present plan of the Spanish Govern- 
ment is to increase the troops stationed at Melilla from 
5000 to 12,000 men, and those at Ceuta from 3000 to 
10,000 men as permanent garrisons. The North African 
possessions will, moreover, form a Captain-Generalship of 
their own, instead of being dependent on the Captain- 
General of the Campo de Gibraltar. 

The strength of the army in time of peace is to be raised, 
dating from the coming year. If in the past few years it 
numbered anything from 80,000 to 100,000 men (or less), it 
is now to contain 126,000 men, namely : — 

100,000 on the Peninsula. 

4,000 on the Canary and Balearic Isles. 

12,000 in Melilla. 

10,000 in Ceuta. 



126,000 in all. 

An infantry regiment consists in Spain in time of peace 
of 519 men and 60 officers, and a battalion of about 275 
men. The amount of superfluous officers is enormous when 
compared with the strength of the army. They number : 
52 Colonels, 100 Lieutenant-Colonels, 420 Majors and 231 
Captains. 

In the field, the Spanish officer, like his men, commands 
respect. He has individuality and bravery. No doubt there 
is much to hope for from a Spanish army that is properly 
equipped and handled independently by the men on the 
spot. But it is impossible to overlook the frequent break- 
down of commissariat that hinders a Spanish campaign, the 
supply of shells that will not explode, clothing that will 
neither fit nor wear, the absence of necessary stores and 
equipments, the faulty field hospitals, the lack, in critical 
hours, of medicines and surgical appliances. The Spaniard 



302 HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 

goes cheerfully enough to war, for he is as brave a man as 
ever took arms in hand, but he knows his foes are not 
limited to the men he has to fight against. There are other 
foes he will never see, the men who draw money for feeding, 
clothing, tending, and arming him, and who regard a war as 
some beneficent scheme by which a kindly Providence has 
elected to fill their capacious pockets. 

Patriotism is a quality that is ill-developed in the mind 
of the Government contractor, or it is unable to survive the 
claims made upon him by those but for whose power he 
would get no contracts. 

Now it is time to take leave of home life in Spain, though 
the author is profoundly conscious that the subject is by no 
means exhausted. Only an observant Spaniard could hope 
to do full justice to such a theme, and the ideal book would 
be written not by one man but by several, to each of whom 
the manners, moods, and methods of a certain district would 
be thoroughly familiar. The Englishman's limited oppor- 
tunities are an effective bar to finality, the most he may 
hope to write is a tolerably comprehensive survey that to 
some extent, however small, shall widen the boundaries of 
existing knowledge. This at least is not difficult in writing 
for the English-speaking public, for though Spain is to-day 
the happy hunting-ground of thousands of British and 
American tourists, few see more of the national life than is 
revealed in the streets and places of public assembly. If it 
should be urged that certain aspects of Spanish life have 
not been treated quite seriously in the preceding pages, the 
writer may plead in justification that he has but followed 
the example of the most of his Spanish friends and acquain- 
tances, who find in their sense of humour a certain antidote 
to the pains that a retrograde and selfish Government inflicts, 



ARMS AND THE MAN 303 

while as far as love of the country goes, he will not yield 
to any. To him Spain is the most fascinating country in 
Europe, and the best type of Spaniard, whether he be of 
high or low degree, is the most fascinating companion, the 
truest friend. 



INDEX 



Abdurrahman's fountain, Cor- 
doba, 27-8. 

Academia Real Espanola^ the^ 
284-5. 

Academy of Jurisprudence, 291. 

Actors and actresses, position of, 
in Spain, go-i. 

Administration, internal, of Spain, 
246. 
Centralization of, 247. 

Agitators, manufacture of, 195-6. 

Aguardiente, 159. 

Alcala de Henares, 131 ; bishop- 
ric of, 77. 
University, 190, 191, 192, 274. 

Alcalde, the, Moorish prototype of, 
286. 

Alcoves in bedrooms, 11. 

Alfonso XII, 247; second mar- 
riage of, and the 
Church, 47-8. 

Alfonso XIII, 5, 149, 265, 297. 
Body-guard of, 298 ; escape from 
French bomb, 81 ; and 
etiquette, 167 ; interest 
in yachting, 150 ; visits 
to England, 5. 

All Saints' Day, associations of, 
55, 65, 125. 

Altamira, Senor, historian, 191. 

America, war with, 4, 5, 35, 56, 
91-2, 280, 293. 

Andalusia, characteristics of, i ; 
dances and songs of, 
102 ; popular name of, 
and its origin, 53 ; pro- 
ductiveness of soilin,24. 

Anti-clericals, on Church wealth, 

79. 



Applause, English and Spanish, 

. 98. 

Apricots of Toledo, 65. 
Aragon, etc., the, jota in, loi ; 

mountain holidays in, 

152. 
Arce, Luis de, poem by, 281. 
Archbishoprics, appointment to. 

Aristocrats, see also Grandees. 
Education of, 198. 
Village, 21 1-9. 
Army, the, of Spain, Ch. xxiii, 
293 et seq. 
Conscription for, 299. 
Commands and forces, distribu- 
tion of, 300-1. 
Officers of, 300, 301. 
Organization, centralization in, 
293, 295, 297-8, 300, 
301. 
Reserve, see Guardia Civil. 
Soldiers of, 294-5, 296, 297, 30i* 
Strength of, 299-301. 
Arroz valenciano, recipe for, 117, 

124. 
Ayyoz viudOy 1 17-8. 
Art and Artists, 202-6. 
Asado (dish), goats' flesh in, 124. 
Asturias, Prince of, birth of, eti- 
quette at, 167. 
Province, bagpipes of, 103. 
Music in, loi. 
Ateneos, the, and the Arts, 284. 
Austro-Spanish matrimonial alli- 
ance, ecclesiastical 
effect of, 47-8. 
Authors in Spain, 273 et seq,; posi- 
tion of, 282-5. 



20 



305 



3o6 



HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 



Averrhoes, philosophy of, 190. 
Azcarrate, professor at Madrid 

University, 192. 
Azorin, writings of, 280. 
Azucarillo (cake), the, 165. 

Bachelor travel in Spain, 153. 

Bagpipes, in Spain, 103. 

Balaguer, romanticism of, 281. 

Balearic Isles, troops at, 301. 

Baptism, 48-9. 

'' Barber of Seville, The," 97- 

Barcelona, art in, 202-3 ; and in- 
dustrial art, 205-6 ; 
commerce, 204 ; grand 
opera, 95-7 ; literary 
position, 274, 275, 279 ; 
school at, for women 
bull-fighters, 185. 
University of, 191-2. 

Baroja, Pio, novelist, 277-8. 

Basque Provinces, Carlism m, 
loi ; characteristics of, 
I ; the " Guarnica " in, 
loi ; literature of, 275 ; 
military laws in, 298 ; 
music of, loi. 

Baturro, the, 19. . 

Bazan Sefiora Dona Emilia, lit- 
erary leader, Basque 
Provinces, 275, 278. 
Becquer, romanticism of, 281. 
Bedrooms and Beds, 10, 11-12. 
Beef, in Spain, 132. 
Beer-gardens, 160-1. 
Benlliure, sculptor, of Valencia, 

275- 
Bequests to the Church, 80-1. 

Biarritz, 149-5?- ^, „ 

'' Bible in Spain, The, 153- 

Bilbao, 150; commercial centre, 

204; furniture built at, 

205-6. 
Billiards, 160. 

Birthplace, Spanish attitude to, 3. 
Biscayan villages, 151. 
Bishoprics, 77. 

Body-guard of Alfonso XIII, 298. 
Bolero, dance, 102. 
Bombita, bull-fighter, 180. 



Borrow, George, 153. 
Brasero, the, 12. 
Brigand, last Spanish, 74. 
British politics, a Spanish view 

of, 262. 
Britons, Spanish ideas on, 95. 
Bull-fight dance, 102. 
Bull-fighters {see also Matadors 
and Toreadors), Caf6 
of Cordoba, 28 ; dress, 
29,181; earnings, 184-5; 
images of, sold at /ma, 
138 : superstitions of, 
58 ; training of, 184-5. 
Bull-fighting and Bull fights (see 
also Bulls), 4; aspect 
of Plaza during, 181, 
186-7, 196. 
Cost of, to the country, 184,188, 
at Feria, 145-6, 212-3. 
Future of, 187-8. 
Methods : 

Portuguese, 44-5, 180. 
Spanish, 182 et seq. 
Pros and cons of, 43-5. 
Season opened at Easter, 64. S 
Students' love of, 196. ■ 

Bull-ring as concert hall, 97. 
Bulls, farms of, 25, 180 ; breeding 
and training of, 1S1-2 ; 
deterioration of breed, 
188 ; how brought to 
the ring, 42-3, 163, 182. 
Bunshop, the, 160. 
" Burial of the Sardine " custom, 
Madrid, 62-3. 

Caballero, " Gigantes y Cabezu- 
dos," folk-song by, 99. 
Caciques, 86, 221, 247; defined, 
264; position of, 264-71. 
Caciquism, Ecclesiastical, 78. 
Legal, 291. 
Literary, 283. 
Political, 78, 264 et seq. 
Cadet College, Toledo, 198. 
Cadiz and the navy, 298. 
Cafes, Ch. xiii, I54 ^^ s%'y 
regional, 135-6; vill- 
age, 217-8. 



INDEX 



307 



Calderon, dramatist, 39, 94. 

Campoamor, romanticism of, 281. 

Campo del Este, 163. 

Campo de San Fernando, Sevilla, 
feria in, 70, 72, 75. 

Canalejas, Senor, 5. 

Canary Isles, troops at, 301. 

Canovas del Castillo, Senor, and 
the Pacto del Pardo, 
265. 

Carbonero, portrait painter, 204. 

Carlism, 266 ; and the Church, 88. 

Carlist wars, 88, 295, 298. 

Carlos, Don, failure of, and its 
results, 298 ; and the 
Pacto del Pardo, 265-6. 

" Carmen '* (opera), 37-8 ; Spanish 
attitude to, 96. 

Carmen, Virgin of, royal gifts to, 
81. 

Carmona, dancers of, 102-3. 

Carnival, the, 62. 

Cartagena and the navy, 298, 299. 

Casa seiiorial, of Doquiera, 21 1-2. 

Castelar, Senor, Professorial as- 
pect of, 192-3. 

Castile, characteristics of, i, 2, 
36 ; industries of, 123, 
206. 

Catalonia, Catalan characteris- 
tics, I, 2, 36. 
Commercial development in, 

outcome of, 169. 
Future of, 169-70. 
Literary revival in, 48 ; regional- 
ism of, 274-5. 
Separatism in, 169. 

'^Catedral, La," by Ibafiez, re- 
volutionary novel, 278. 

Cavia, Mariano de, journalist, 282. 

Cedula personal, the, tax, 248-9. 

Cemeteries, 56, 163. 

Central Spain, characteristics of, 
2. 

Centralization, 247, 259 ; aim of, 
298. 
of Military control, 293, 295, 
297-8. 

Cervantes, books by, 170 ; literary 
influence of, 278 ; pen- 



portraiture of, 281 ; and 
Spanish chivalry, 170. 

Ceuta, penal settlement at, 287 ; 
troops at, 301. 

Charles V, on Cordoba Cathedral, 
28. 

Chauffeurs, 18, 19. 

Cheese, 131. 

Children, characteristics of, 50. 
Parental treatment of, 16-18, 

44, 66, 136, 233. 
Toys of, 66. 

Chocolate, national beverage of 
Spain, 133. 

Christmas Eve and Christmas 
Day, gifts and observ- 
ances at, 65-8, 233. 

Church, the, in Spain, Chs. v-vii, 
46 et seq. 
Court support, 80-1, 87-9. 
Education and, 87. 
Festivals of, Ch. vi, 61 ; great, 
62, 65 ; provincial, 65. 
Hierarchy of, Ch. vii, 76 et seq. 
Influence of, from cradle to 
grave, 48 et seq., 272. 
Possessions and wealth of, 79 ; 
sources of these, 80-2 ; 
unproductiveness of,83. 

Church and State, unison of, re- 
sults, 61-2, 265-6. 

ChurroSy or buhuelos, 133. 

Cicadas, caged, for sale, 28. 

Cigarrera, the, and Carmen, 38. 

Cigars, Spanish, poor quality of, 
217. 

Circulos de Bellas Artes, 203, 284. 

Cisneros, Cardinal, work of, at 
Alcala, 190. 

Cities, archiepiscopal, 76-7. 

of Saints, honours paid to, and 
feria of, 137 et seq. 

Civil courts, 286-7. 

Clarin, writings of, 280. 

Class prejudice of grandees, 168. 

Classes, varying temperament of, 

36. 
Climate and health, 12. 
and Industry, 36-7. 
and Political problems, 206-7. 



3o8 



HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 



Clubs and Club life, 135-6 ; of 

students, 196. 
Cock-fighting, 4 ; at feria^ 143-5 ; 

at Sevilla, 37. 
Codes of Justice, 289. 
Cogida, explained, 58. 
Colours, dominant, in Spain, 139. 
Comedy, in Spain, 104. 
Commercialism, rise of, 48. 
Concessions, Spain a land of, 207, 

228-9. 
Confession, 51, 59, 81-2. 
Confessors, private_, 81-2 ; Jesuits 

as, 59, 82. 
Confirmation, 51, 63. 
Congreso, lawyers in^ 290. 
Conscription, universal, in Spain, 

299. 

Constitution, the, of Spain, 255. 

ConsufnoSy food tax, or octroi, 113. 

Consumption, Spanish freedom 
from, 124. 

Cooking and Cookery, 7, 14, 49 ; 
regionalism in, 106 et 
seq, ; a typical meal, 
41-2. 

Copa, the (brazier), 37. 

Copper kitchen utensils, Spanish 
pride in, 13, 113-4, 

Cordoba, Cathedral of, 28 ; char- 
acteristics of, 27 et seq. ; 
leather industry of, 206. 

Corpus Christi feast, at Toledo, 65. 

Corrida de gallos, in a village, 
213-4. 

Cortes, the (Parliament), de- 
puties in, 255. 
Elections to, 255-6, 258. 
Members unpaid, 254. 
Senators, 254, 256. 

Court of Oranges, Cordoba, 27, 
28. 

Court, the. Church influence on, 
and support by, 80-1, 

87-9. 
Etiquette in, 166-7. 
Jesuit influence in, 48^ 59. 
Courtesy, Spanish, 4, 176, 178-9. 
Courts of Justice, varieties of, 
286-7. 



Credit, non-existent in Spain, 

133- 

Criminal courts, 287. 

Cross, sign of, 52, 58. 

Crosses, wayside, France and 
Italy, 53. 

Cruelty to animals, 28, 40, iii, 
145, 188, 213, 214, 233. 

Cuban revolt, 35, 295. 

"Cuentos Morales," by Cer- 
vantes, 170. 

Culinary vessels, 13, 113-4. 

Cursis, summer holidays of, 147. 

Customs dues, 250-2. 

Dances and Dancing, 3, 8, 9, 34, 

41, 72, 102 ; national 

skill in and love of, 8, 

9, 97, 196 ; regionalism 

in, 99. 
Death and burial, 53-6. 
Democratic spirit in Spain, 15, 

167. 
Deputies, 255. 
Dialects, 274-5. 

Dicenta^ Joaquin, journalist, 282. 
Dishes, Spanish, special, 41-2 ; 

details of, 1 16-21. 
Dolores, day of, 65. 
*^ Don Quixote," passim. 
Doquiera, typical village, life in 

and near, 208 et seq., 

223 et seq. 
" Don Giovanni," 97, 104. 
" Don Juan Tenorio,'' play, by 

Zorilla, 104. 
Dos de Mayo festival, 64-5, 89. 
Drama, romantic, 104. 
Dramatists, see Calderon, Quin- 

teros, the, Vega, etc. 
Dress, national and occupational, 

23, 29, 64, 181, 289. 
Drinks, national, 133, 164-5. 

Easter in Spain, 63, 64 ; at Se- 
villa, 71-2 ; the Seises 
dance, 34. 

Eastern Spain, characteristics of, 
I, 2, 191, 206, 274, 
275-6. 



INDEX 



309 



aray, writer, 273, 280. 
e, an, priests' use of, 84-5. 
tion versus the Church, 87. 
steel industry of, 206. 
eco, 161 ; admired by art 

students^ 202. 
Dns, to Cortes, 255-6, 258. 
icipal, etc., 257-8. 
w, the, 42-3, 163, 182. 
h ignorance of Spanish life 

and thought, 3-4, 33, 

41. 
la, the, in Spanish theatres, 

92-3- 
OS NacionaleSy by Galdos, 

280. 
al, the, 13, 56, 161. 
^ Real, the, 298. 
ero, matador, 36, 180 ; fate 

of, 186. 
s, landed, large size of, 82 ; 

undeveloped, 168-9. 
f or carpets, lo-ii. 
tte, Ch. XIV, 166 et seq, 
ye, the, 19, 58. 

IG, 63. 

>m of Spaniards, 262, 278, 

293- . 
's and Children, 66, 136. 
the, Ch. XI, 137 et seq, ; in 

a village, 213-4. 
, Senor, fate of, 61. 
, and the navy, 298, 299. 
als of the Church, 61 et seq, 
3 pig-food, 229-30. 
varieties of, 132-3. 
g, in Galician rias, 152. 
of private houses, lo-ii. 
and Fauna, 25, 31, 40, 65, 

210. 
, the, of Students, 199-200. 
r girls, iio-ii. 
irs, 164 ; cry of, 165. 
ongs and dances, 7, 102, 

103-4. 
the, features of, 154. 
prices of, 109 ; taxes of, 113, 

252-3- 
-mothers, 15-17. 



France, Law of Association in, 47, 
Fruit, in Spanish markets, 11 1-2. 
Funerals, 55. 

Galdos, Perez, writer, 148, 273, 
280. 

Galicia, dialect in, 275. 
Music in, loi, 103. 
Rias of, 151, 152. 

Gallegada, of Galicia, loi. 

Galleries of houses, 10. 

Game in Spain, 151. 

Games, 159, 160, 161, 218-9. 

Ganadero, the, or bull-farmer, 25, 
181. 

Garlic soup, 130-1. 

Gazpacho, 116 ; recipe for, 120. 

German influence in Spain, 160-1. 

Gibraltar, Campo de, Spanish 
military command, 301. 

"Gigantes y Cabezudos," folk- 
song, by Caballero, 99. 

Gipsies, position of, and charac- 
teristics, 9, 73, 140. 
Sevillan quarter, inhabited by, 

35, 72, 73- 
Giralda Tower, Sevilla, 36, 70. 
Girls, love-making days and ways, 

10, 170-1. 
Goats and Goats' flesh, 123, 124, 
177. 

Milk, uses of, 123-4. 
Good Friday observance, 63, 64. 
G6ngora, 281. 

Governesses, English, in Spain, 18. 
Government, the, of Spain : — 

Basis of, 255. 

Characteristics, 302. 

Cortes, see that head. 

Posts under, competition for, 

195- 
Spanish attitude to, 262. 

Goya, pictures by, 20, 63, 70, 152 ; 
the Dos de Mayo com- 
memorated by, 64, 89 ; 
Spanish types pre- 
served by, 100. 

Granada, Gipsy head-quarters, 9. 
Patio de los Leones in, 161. 

Granadinos dance, the, 102. 



310 



HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 



Grandees, characteristics of, 
167-8 ; confessors of, 
81-2 ; feria hospitality 
of, at Sevilla, 75 ; love 
of etiquette of, 166-7 ; 
titles of, 175. 

Grand opera in Spain, 95-7. 

" Gran Galeote," by Echegaray, 
280. 

Granja, La, 150. 

** Gran Via, La," play, 98. 

Graves, visits to, on All Saints' 
Day, 55-6, 65. 

Great Britain and Spain, political 
relations between, 4, 5. 

Guadalajara, honey of, 131. 

Guadalquivir, meaning of, 27. 

Guadelupe, Monastery of, Zur- 
baran pictures at, story 
of, 57-8. 

Guaderrama, wind from, risks 
from^ 13. 

Guardia Civil, the, 21, 57, 87, 
211 ; administration 
of, 299 ; organization 
and functions, etc., 
of, 296-8; strength of, 

299. 
Guarda monies^ the, 227-9. 
" Guarnica," sacred tree of the 

Basques, loi. 
Guerra, Rafael (Guerrita), famous 

bull-fighter, 29, 36, 180; 

income earned by, 184. 
Guimera, Catalan poet, *^ Terra 

Baixa" by, 274. 
Guiso, goats' flesh in, 124. 
Guitarrero, the, 41-2. 
Guzman family of Doquiera, 

212-3, 319, 234. 

Hamlets, self-government of, 257. 

Hams, Spanish, 129 ; given at 
Christmas, 67. 

Hat-trick, new version of, 252. 

Hierarchy of the Church, Ch. vii, 
76 et seq. 
Popular with the masses, 79. 

Hippodrome, Madrid, Art exhibi- 
tion at, 203. 



Holidays, summer, in Spain, 
Ch. XII, 147 et seq. 
Regionalism in, 149. 
Holy Week, 63-4, in Sevilla, 69-75. 
Home, the, Church influences in 
and on, 49, 59. 
Men's love for, 136. 
Traditions, customs, etc., in, 6. 
in Villages, 220-1. 
Honey, of Guadalajara, 131. 
Horse - thieves, and dealers, 

gipsies as, 9, 73, 140. 
Hospitality, Spanish, 176 et seq, ; 
Moorish influence seen 
in, 176. 
Hotels (see also Inns), in Sevilla, 

33- 
Housekeepers and their methods, 

14, 108 et seq. 
Houses, architecture and plan 

of, 6 et seq, ; internal 

arrangements of, 8, 

10-13. 
Huerta, a typical, 225 et seq. 
Humour, characteristic, of the 

Spaniard, 83, 104, 277, 

^78, 293, 302. 
Husbands, characteristics of, in 

Spain, 136, 214. 

Iba^ez, Blanco, Valencian novel- 
ist, 275, 277-8. 

Ibsen drama, the, in Spain, 95. 

Ilustre Fregona, by Cervantes, 
156. 

Images of Saints (and bull- 
fighters) sold at feria, 

138. 

" Imparcial," the, de Cavia's 
cronicas in, 282. 

Industrial arts, advance in, 205-6. 

Infant mortality, 15, 17, 18, 224. 

Inns, wayside, 29-30. 

Inquisition, the, at Sevilla, 33. 

Intelectuales, and Ibsen's plays, 95 ; 
and Spanish cookery, 
201. 

Jesuits, the, in Spain, 88. 
Founder's village, 100. 



INDEX 



311 



Jesuits (contd,)^ influence of, in 

Court, Cabinet, and 

Community, 48, 59, 60. 

Vicario General of, 77 ; and his 

power, 82. 

Jewels in Churches, 80-1. 

Jota, dance, g, loi, 102. 

Journalists, Spanish, 282. 

Judges, 286 et seq. ; salaries of, 
288-9. 

Juez municipal, parallels to^ and 
functions of, 206. 

Junta, hamlet local authority, 257. 

jurisprudence, Academy of, 291. 

Justice in Spanish law courts^ 
291-2. 

Justices of the Peace, 286, 289. 

Juzgado municipal, the, 286. 

Kids, skin and flesh of, uses of, 

123, 177. 
King of the Gipsies, home of, 9. 
» Kindness to Children, Spanish 
characteristic, 18, 66, 

136, 233. 
Kitchen, the, in Spain, Ch. x, 
106 et seq, ; equipment 
of, 13, 1 13-4- 

Lagarto I cry of, import of, 

58. 

Landed estates, size of, 82 ; de- 
velopment of, grandee 
obstruction of, 168-9. 

Landless men, in Spain, live stock 
of, 224. 

Landowners, peasants as, 223-4 
et seq. 

La Mancha, associations of, 119 ; 
goat rearing in, 123. 

Latifundio, definition of, risks 
from, 82, 83, 89. 

Law, study and practice of, pop- 
ularity of, in Spain, 
289-90. 

Law of Associations, Spanish 
failure to enforce, 47. 

Law Courts, Spanish, and their 
jurisdiction, Ch. xxii, 
286 et seq. 



Law-suits in Spain, 289. 

Lawyers, multiplicity of, in Spain, 
290. 

Leather industry, 206. 

Legal degree, easily obtainable, 
290. 

Lent, observances connected 
with, 62-3. 

Liberalism, rise of, 48. 

** Lidia, La," bull-fighters' paper, 
32. 

Literature in Spain, present day 
renaissance of, 273 et 
seq. 

Lovers and their ways in Spain, 
10, 170-1. 

Lotteries {see also Government 
posts), 196, 197, 236 et 
seq., 249-50. 

Loyola, Ignatius, 100. 

** Lucha, La," by Baroja, revolu- 
tionary novel, 278. 

Lung affections, winter winds in- 
ducing, 12, 13. 

Madrid, art at (modern), 202-3. 
Ateneo of, 284. 
Carnival at, 62. 
Cemetery at, 56. 
Centre of administration, civil 
and military, 76, 246, 
247, 292, 295, 297-8. 
Cost of living at, 198-9. 
Defects of, 13. 
Dos de Mayo festival connected 

with, 64-5, 89. 
Grand opera at, 95-7. 
Literary position of, 274. <wi 

Picture exhibition at, 203. 
Plain, round, depopulation of, 

206. 
Political capital, 76. 
Prisons at, model, 287. 
University, 191, 192. 

characteristics of, 192-3. 
medical education at, 193. 
Magistrates, 286, 289. 
Mail trains, 25. 

Malaga, grape harvest at, 39 ; 
holidays in, 152. 



312 



HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 



Manners, Spanish, excellence of, 

176. 
Mantilla, the, occasions of wear- 
ing, 64, 173. 
Manufacturing districts, priests 

difficulties in, 86. 
Maria Christina, Queen Dowager, 

47-8 ; and the Church, 

81. 
'* Mariucha," play by Galdos, 148. 
Markets and marketing, 108-9, 

112-3. 
Marriage, civil and ecclesiastical, 

51-2. 
Customs and etiquette of, 168, 

170-4. 
Regionalism in, 106-7, i?^' 
Masses for the dead, 55. 

Novenas and special, 56. 
M2Li3idors (see also Bull-fighters and 

under Names), famous, 

180, 186 ; costume of, 

181, 186 ; earnings and 
training of, 184-5. 

Maura, Senor, 60, 256 ; and the 

Church, 86-7 ; and the 

Guardia Civil, 297 ; 

legal success of, 290-1 ; 

and literature, 283. 
Mayors, appointment of, 258. 
Mazzantini, D. Luis, matador, 

after-career of, 180 ; 

income of, as matador, 

184. 
Meal, Spanish, typical, 41-2. 
Meat-balls^ 131-2. 
Melilla, penal settlement at, 287 ; 

troops at, 301. 
Melons, custom concerning, 112. 
Merienda, the, mid-day meal, and 

picnic, 120, 121, 177. 
Military administration, see Army. 
Districts and zones, 258, 298-9. 
Montjuich, 190. 
Monuments, sculptural, cultus for, 

56-7. 
Moorish architecture in Spain, 
domestic, 6, 11. 
Equestrianism, a parallel to, 
250. 



Moorish influences traceable in 
Spain {see also Fatal- 
ism), 6, II, 17, 27, 40, 
41, loi, 165, 176 etseq,f 
262, 278, 286, 293. 

Moors, the, victories over, bishop- 
rics in memory of, 77. 

Morals of youths, 51. 

Morocco, caravansarai of, and 

Spanish fonda, 154 ; 

saints' shrines in, 137. 

Spanish, prisoners in, 287, 288. 

Morote, Luis, journalist, 282. 

Mostoles, Alcalde of, 3, 211. 

Mothers and Children, 16, 17, 18. 

Motors and roads, 18, 19. 

Mountain holidays, in Aragon 
and Navarre, 152. 

Municipal self-government, 257, 
258-9. 

Music, Spanish love of, 97 ; of 
Zarzuela, 99; regional- 
ism in, 100. 

Murcia, Vera, the Burns of, 
281. 

Murillo, Bartolommeo Esteban, 
genius of, 34 ; paint- 
ing attributed to, and 
actually by, 31 ; por- 
traiture by, 281 ; 
sneered at, by stu- 
dents, 202. 

Name-days, 15, 177-8. 

Names, Christian, restriction on 

choice of, 49. 
Napoleon I, 89 ; and the Alcalde 

of Mostoles, 3, 211. 
National airs, 7, 99. 
Dishes, 107, 130-4. 
Drinks, 159, 164. 
Navarre, Carlism in, loi ; moun- 
tain holidays in, 152. 
Navy, Spanish, abuses in, Silvela's 
action, 267. 
Ships in building for, 299. 
Zones of, 298. 
NavidadeSj described, 66. 
New Year observances, 62. 
Nicknames, 176. 



INDEX 



313 



Nobles {see also Grandees), in 
poverty, 148. 

Noria, the, 6. 

North Africa, Spanish military ar- 
rangements for, 300-1 ; 
penal settlements and 
prisons in, 287-8. 

Northern Spain, characteristics 
of, 100. 
Death and its concomitants in, 

53-5. 
Industrial arts in, 206. 
Patio, the, in, 7, 8. 
Priests in, rural, 83-5. 
Novels, modern Spanish, Charles 

Rudy on, 276. 
NovillaSy corrida de^ Sitferia, 145. 

Oil, in cookery, 114-5, 122, 163. 
Olive culture, peasant, 225-6. 
Olla podrida, national dish, 
Northern Spain, 116^ 

Oviedo University, 191. 

Pacto del Pardo, the, 265-6. 

Pageantry in Spain, 68. 

Painters (see also Names), past, 
202 ; and present, 204. 

Palm Sunday ceremonies, 63. 

F 3implon a., feria of, 138. 

Pantheon, the, of Spain, 56. 

Parties in Spain, 254, 255-6, 262, 
265, 266, 271, 272. 

Pastry and Pastry-cooks, excel- 
lence of, 49, 114, 116, 
161, 178. 

*' Patio, El," play by the brothers 
Quintero, 8. 

Patio, the, and its uses, 6-9. 

Patriotism, local, intensity of, 

53- 

Peasant landowners and cultiva- 
tion, 223-4, 224 et seq. 

Pedrell, '' Los Pirineos "(trilogy) 

by, 96. 
" Peerage, members of, as distinct 
from titled persons,27i. 

Pelota, game of, 218-9. 

Pensions, 253-4. 



^* Pepita Jimenez," by Valera, a 

classic, 281. 
Pepper trees, 210. 
Pereda, Jose Maria, v^ritings of, 

278, 281. 
'' Perro Chico, El," play, 100. 
Philip II and the Escorial, 13, 
Picture-restoring, Spanish love 

of, 204-5. 
Picture shows, 203. 
Pictures, holy, in private houses, 

Pic6n, Jacinto Octavio, writings 
of, 278. 

Pigs, rearing, killing, and uses of, 
25, 123, 124-5, 228, 
229-30; Charles Rudy 
on, 126 et seq. 

Pilar church, Saragossa, jewels 
of the Virgin at, 81. 

*' Pirineos, Los," trilogy by Ped- 
rell, 96. 

Pisto, 116 ; how made, 119-20. 

Plays, see also Theatre, and under 
Titles. 
Applause, and criticism at, 

98-9, 197. 
Classes of, 92, 105. 
Production and mounting of, 

93-4- 
Plaza, or Campo San Fernando, 

Seviila, in feria-time, 

35; in war-time, 35, 

36. 

Plaza de Toros (see also Bull- 
fights, etc.), Ch= XV, 
180 et seq. 

Plaza, the, of a village, 210. 

Poetry, modern Spanish, 274, 281. 

Politeness {see also Courtesy), 
176 ; formulae of, 178-9. 

Political control of, and depend- 
ence on, the army in 
Spain, 293, 295-6. 

Politics, Spanish, Ch. xxi, 261 
et seq. 

Poor, the, hospitality shown by, 
in Spain, 179. 

Portraiture, strength in, of Spani- 
ards, 204, 280-1. 



314 



HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 



Portugal, Bull-fighting in, 44-5, 

180. 
Law of Associations enforced 

in, 47. 
Portugalete, 147, 150. 
Posada^ the, 155-7. 
Postal service in Spain, ^54-5. 
Pole gallegOy 116, 119; recipe for, 

118. 
Poultry market, the, cruelty in, 

III. 
Pradilla, portrait painter, 204. 
Priests, parish, two types of, 77-8. 

Rural, 83-6, 152, 212. 
Prisons in Spain and in Morocco, 

287, 288. 
Processions of the Church, 60, 

61-2, 68 et seq, ; rural, 

233-5. 

Professors at Universities, 194, 
196. 

Proven9al language, used in 
Catalonia and Valen- 
cia, 275; consequences, 
276. 

Provinces, 258 ; number and re- 
spective size of, 259 ; 
self-government of, 

257-9. 
Puchero, recipe for, 116-7. 
Punishments^ legal, 287. 

QuEVEDO, writer, irony of, 282; 
pen-portraiture of, 281. 
Quintero, brothers, play by, 8. 

Railways, railway officials and 
journeys by rail, 19, 
20 et seq,, 139-40. 

Ramo santo, popular idea as to, 63. 

Real Cuerpo de Guardias Alabar- 
deros, 298. 

Regionalism, instances of, 1-3, 47, 
53. 64-5, 98, 99, 106-21, 
135-6, 149, i52-3» 162-3, 
172-3, 210-11, 221, 258- 
9, 273, 274, 276, 277. 
Centralization against, 297-8. 
Exceptions and limits to, 94, 
104, 165. 



RejUy the, 10, 21 1-2. 

Religion, interwoven with history 
and life, in Spain, 46-7. 

Renaissance, in Spain of learn- 
ing? 283 ; of literature, 

273. 
Representation of the people in 

the Cortes, 255-6. 
Republic, Spanish, effect on the 

Church, 78, 80 ; fall of, 

192. 
Republicanism, 266 ; aspirations 

of, 206-7 ; exponents in 

the Cortes, 256. 
Restaurants, Ch. xiii, 154 et seq,y 

162 et seq. 
Reverte, bull-fighter, 180 ; wealth 

accrued by, 184. 
Reyes, Arturo, writings of, 278. 
Rias, the, of Galicia, 151, 152. 
Riff war, 280 ; Spanish comments 

on, 294. 
Rios, Senor Montero, 270. 
Roads, badness of, 19. 
Rooms, private, coolness of, 11. 
Royal family, honorific addresses 

in, 175-6. 
Rudy, Charles, on literature in 

Spain, 276 et seq, 
on Pigs and their uses, 126 et 

seq, 
Rueda, Salvador, poet, 281. 
Rusinol, Santiago, leading light 

in modern Catalonia, 

274. 

Sagasta, Senor, 266 ; and the 
Church, 80 ; and the 
Pacto del Pardo, 265. 

Sainetes (plays), nature of, 105. 

St. Telmo, grounds of, 35. 

SS. Justina and Rustina, of Se- 
villa, 71. 

Saints in Morocco, shrines of, 137. 
in Spain, number of, 136-7. 

Salamanca University, past and 
present, 190-1, 192, 274. 

Salisbury, late Marquis of, on size 
of private estates in 
Spain, 82. 



INDEX 



31S 



Salmeron, Professor, 192, 291 ; 
and Church posses- 
sions, 79. 

Sancho Panza, modern parallels 
to, 14. 

San Perm in, feria of, 138. 

San Lorenzo, day of, 65. 

San Lorenzo cemetery, Madrid,56. 

San Sebastian (watering - place), 

147? i49» 150. 
Santiago de Compostela, patron 

Saint of Spain, 137 ; 

day of, 65. 
University of, 193. 
Saragossa, Church jewels at, 81 ; 

University of, 193. 
Sarasate, and the feria of Pamp- 
lona, 138. 
School and schoolmaster, in a 

village, 215-6. 
Sculpture, Spanish, 205. 
Seises, dance of the, 34-5. 
Senators, 254, 256. 
Separatist yearnings of Eastern 

Spain, 206-7, 275-6. 
Serene (watchman), town, 30-1 ; 

village, 231. 
Servants and employers, 7, 13-17, 

134- 
Sevilla, Cathedral of, 33, 173 ; 
dances in, 34-5 ; ver- 
gers of, 34. 
Characteristics of, 27-9, 32 et seq. 
Climate at, 37, 75. 
Cock-pit at, 145. 
Famous jewel at, 81. 
Gipsy quarter of, 35. 
Holy Week at, 69-75. 
Inquisition at, 33. 
Matadors of, 180-1. 
Railway routes to, 24-5. 
Tobacco factory at, 37 ; em- 
ployees of, 38. 
University of, 198. 
Walks at, 35. 
Sevillana, dance, 9, 102. 
Shakespeare, plays of, in Spain, 95. 
Short story, the, in Spain, 279-80. 
Sociedad de Autores, control by, 
of Spanish stage, 282-3. 



Soldiers, Spanish, 35-6 ; Ch. xxiii,. 

293 et seq, 
Sorolla, painter, 204, 275. 
Southern Spain, characteristics, 
of, I, 22. 
Murillo's models found in, 34. 
Patios in, 8. 
Rural priests in, 84-5. 
Sierpes (street), Sevilla, 32, 33. 
Sierra de Gredos, goat-pastures: 

on, 123. 
Sierra Morena, 27. 
Silvela, Senor, 266 ; and the Navy, 
267 ; and the Pacto 
del Pardo, 265. 
Sinecures, 253. 

Spain, see Northern, Southern, etc^. 
see also Provinces, and 
Regionalism. 
Constitution of, 255. 
Fascination of, 5, 303. 
Government of, 195, 262, 302. 
Spanish characteristics {see also^ 
Cruelty to Animals, 
Fatalism, Humour,. 
Kindness to Children, 
etc), 14, 15, 66, 91, 97, 
100, 104, 134, 136, 140, 
141, 145, 158-9, 166, 
167, 170-1, 176, 178-9, 
224, 262, 278, 293, 294,. 
295, 301, 302. 
Ideas about Britons, 4. 
Sponsors at weddings, 172-3. 
Stage, the, in Spain, 39, 90 et 

seq., 283. 
Stamps, see Taxation. 
State Control of Spanish Universi- 
ties, effects of, 192, 194. 
Lotteries in Spain,237,242,243-4.^ 
Steel industry, decay of, 206. 
Stoves, kitchen, 13, 14. 
Street-cries, 58, 165, 231-2. 
Students, Ch. xvi, 189 et seq, 
of Art, 201-3. 

Characteristics, 189, 196 et seq, 
of Law, 289. 

Life of, learning, results, 195-6 ;, 
lighter side of, 196 
et seq. 



:3i6 



HOME LIFE IN SPAIN 



Studio, The, influence of, in Spain, 

205. 
Superstition, instances of, 17, 19, 

47, 57. 241- 
^' Sursum Corda," poem by de 

Arce, 281. 
Sweetmeats, local, 131, 141. 

Taberna, the, 159, 215. 
Table setting and utensils, 120. 
Tancredo, Don, bravado of, 187. 
Tango dance, 102. 
Taxation and Taxes, i, 2, 91-2, 
113, 193-4, 195, 206, 
247, 250-2, 253- 
Teatro Espanol, the, 94. 
Teatro Lirico, Madrid, 96. 
'* Terra Baixa," poem in Catalan, 

by Guimera, 274. 
Theatre, the, in Spain, Ch. vni, 

90 et seq., 197. 
Titles, easily obtained, 271. 

honorifics, etc., etiquette of, 
174-6. 
Tobacco-growing, illicit, 227. 
Tobacconists, widows as, 217. 
Toledo, apricots of, 65. 

Cadet College at, 198. 

Cardinal Archbishop of, 76. 

Cervantes at, 156. 

Church jewels at, 81. 

Corpus Christi festival at, 85. 

Ecclesiastical headquarters at, 

76. 

Steel industry gone from, 206. 
Torero, funeral of, 55. 
Tortillas, how made, 130. 
Tower, the, of Gold, Sevilla, 35. 
Town-hall, village, 210-11. 
Toys, 66_, 138-9. 
Tradesmen and Customers^ 108-9, 

134-5. 
Trains and railway travel, 19, 20 

et seq,, 139-40. 
Tree, sacred, Basque Provinces, 

lOI. 

Tren botijo, 74. 

Triana, the, at Sevilla, 35, 72. 

Tribunal Supremo, the, 287^ 288. 



Trigo, Senor, literary school 

formed by, 278. 
Turkeys, prices of, 67. 
Turon, the^ of Valencia, 131. 

Universities, Spanish, classes 
frequenting, 198. 

Education at, cost of, and con- 
sequences, 193, 194-6. 

Past glories and present posi- 
tion of, 190, 191 et seq. 

Regulations at, 193-4. 

Valdes, Palacio, writings of, 278. 
Valencia, art and literature in, 

275. 
Carnival in, 62. 
Characteristics of, i. 
Church in, popular attitude to, 

86-7. 
Turon of, 131. 
Valera, Juan, diplomat and novel- 
ist, 281. 
Vega, Lope de la, 39, 94 ; per- 
fector of sainetes, 105. 
Ventas, and Ventorillos, 29-30, 39, 

157. 

Vera, Vicente, poet, 281. 

Velasquez, 161 ; beloved of stud- 
ents, 202 ; portraiture 
by, 281. 

Vicar, the, in Spain, 77. 

Vicario General^ the, of the Jesuits, 
77, 82. 

Victoria Eugenie, Queen-Consort, 
Spain, 5, 150; and 
court etiquette, 167 ; 
objection of, to bull- 
fights, 188. 

Village {see Doquiera), features 
of, 209-21 ; financial 
position of, 209 ; life in, 
Ch. XVII, 208 et seq. ; 
self-government in, 

257-8. 
Vine-dresser, home of, 220-1. 
Vineyards, and wine, 226-7. 
Virgen de la Sangre, procession 

of, 233-5. 



INDEX 



317 



Virgin, the, local worship and 
shrines of, 53, 65, 81. 
Visitors, entertainment oJF, 8-9. 
Visiting cards, 174. 
Visits, etiquette of, 176-7. 
Viveros, see Restaurants. 

Wagner, Spanish attitude to, 96. 

Water, national drink of Spani- 
ards, 164. 
Mode of drinking, 165. 

Wealth of the Church, 79, 80-4. 
National, Spanish, 263. 

Wedding customs, 172-3. 

Well, Moorish, Sevilla, 40. 

Western Spain, characteristics of, 
2. 

Weyler, General Valeriano, power 
of, 293. 

Widows, military, as tobaccon- 
ists, 217 ; re-marriage 
of, 232-3. i 



Wines, 115 ; manufacture of, 22i« 
Winter, and warming methods, 

12, 13, 37. 
Witchcraft, regionalism in, 58-9. 
Women, bull-fighters, 185. 
Field workers, 224. 
Religious attitude of, 49, 52. 
Wood-carving, 205. 
Working-class life in villages^ 
219-21. 

Zaffarin Islands, penal settle- 
ment at, 287. 

ZarandeOf the, 102. 

Zarzuela, the, 4, 72-3 ; features of, 
and regionalism in, 98- 
loi ; music of, 103-4 5 
nature of, 38-9. 

Zorilla, play by, 104 ; romanti- 
cism of, 28. 

Zurbaran, pictures by, story of^ 

57- 



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